A few days ago, I left work around dusk.  As I climbed the hill beside the hospital, I noticed two people on the sidewalk, walking arm-in-arm, their long white canes swishing before them.  I had a twinge of concern: I tend to think of blind people as perhaps a bit more vulnerable than us sighted folk, and here it was getting dark.  How would they find their way around?  After all, they’re blind.

A beat later, I realized that, whether it’s day or nighttime, what helps these folks get around is not the presence of daylight, but rather those trusty canes.  It didn’t matter that it was getting dark.  They’d navigate Portland just as easily as they had before the sun went down.

There is something about coming up against my assumptions that I find delightful.