Graciela Nava Guerrero
Along with a group of colleagues, I spent last week in Texel, a very special island in the Wadden Sea. Early every morning and late every evening I biked 4km between the Campus de Potvis (our accommodation) and the Verzamelpost (our workplace). Although most of the days I made both journeys with the entire group, on Wednesday evening and Thursday morning I biked by myself through the grasslands of the island.
On Wednesday evening, it was already dark when I left the Verzamelpost. While I was biking through the outer streets of Den Horn, most of the road was still lightened by the houses, a few cars and a few bikes. It came to my mind that once I had left the town, the darkness would make it hard to find my way back to the Campus de Potvis. However, the experience was completely different. In every part of the way, houses, towns and roads had sufficient shine to show me the way. Interestingly, their shine was not coming from house lighting, car lights, or public lighting, it was coming from the stars.
Later, on Thursday morning, I took the way back to the Verzamelpost. This time I had no concerns. I waited a few minutes for dawn because I was curious to bike the road in the daylight. The experience was equally impressive than last night’s. I could hear all kind of birds waking up, water in the canals slightly moved by the wind, and a few sheep doing sheep things. No car engines, no city noises, only nature’s voice and my rusty bike chain.
After Wednesday night and Thursday morning, I felt happy and calmed, although at the time I did not realize why. After thinking about it, I finally understood that I had had a privileged experience. I had been able to enjoy the nightlights. Not those coming from the city but those coming from the sky. Something probably very close to the Dark-Sky Association’s standards.
I had also been able to hear a few of nature’s many voices with no background noise. No cars, no engines, no machines, no nothing. Only, wind, water, birds and sheep.
Lastly and perhaps the one that impressed me the most, I had been able to bike in the middle of the night with no fear. A woman biking in a dark road in the middle of the night, alone and feeling no fear. It became clear to me that the bike trips had made me experience much more than nature. They had made me feel free. Now, I like to think of freedom, local and global, individual and collective, personalized but inclusive, current but long-term, and dynamic yet stable freedom, as another way to imagine sustainability.