It’s fall break at the University of Puget Sound, and that means a little bit of time to do a little bit of nothing. This year, my friends and I, having access to a car, took a trip to Auburn for an afternoon full of shopping. Tired and hungry, we exited the shopping center, piled into the car, and drove to a nearby Panda Express.

But the day wasn’t over. Despite having spent more time at the mall than we had anticipated, we didn’t want to head back to campus yet. Though our original plan (to drive to Sunset Park to watch the sunset) had to be scratched (we had already missed the sunset), we decided to go to a nearby park to eat our take-out.

Everything was dark as we pulled in to the parking lot. While there were many streetlamps around, few of them were on. We were alone, a feeling that made me feel that we weren’t. Sitting atop the bleachers, we ate.

There was no trace of light in the sky when we had finished eating, and it seemed—if such a thing is possible—that the park was quieter than before. Yet, in spite of ourselves and what reservations we may have had about staying, we opened the trunk of the car, pulled out a basketball and a Frisbee we had bought at the mall, and wandered back into the darkness.

This Frisbee was lined by tiny multicolored lights, which turned on with the flick of a switch. Naturally, we turned it on, and were amazed by the luminescent reds, greens, and yellows that greeted us. We began to fling the Frisbee around, all over the place. It gave us a little bit of light, which dissolved the darkness as though it were as insubstantial as air.

We watched as the coruscating lights traced their way through the darkness and knew that this was a good way to be spending fall break.