When Dawn Feels Impossible
Hope looks small at first—then it fills the trail.
Light reveals what darkness conceals- photo by Bonnie S. Heisse.
There’s a moment before dawn when the cold bites hardest and doubt gets loud.
You wonder why you started this hike so early. The darkness feels heavy, and every step forward seems harder than the last.
I remember a hike in the Marine Corps—we called them humps.
We started in the evening. For the first hour, we had light, then darkness swallowed the trail.
Snow packed the ground, sparkling deceptively beautiful in what little light remained. We were hiking in silence for hours.
Darkness on every side. Only the Marines in front and behind were visible.
No talking allowed—just you, your thoughts, and time moving like cold honey. Breaks for water and sock checks gave momentary relief, but the miles dragged on.
By the time we finally reached our destination, the sun was rising. Never before had I been so thankful for a sunrise. I vowed never to take it for granted again.
What kept me going was knowing the hike couldn’t last forever.
Eventually, the sun would rise. And once it did, the trail would change.
Holes, stumps, the obstacles hidden in the night—they all came into view.
Light revealed what darkness had concealed. These lessons from that long night stayed with me.
Lessons from the Trail
Tiny wins matter. Dry socks, a water break, or a hint of sunrise—all can keep you moving.
Good company matters. Even silent, just knowing someone is beside you makes the burden lighter.
The next step is enough. You don’t need to see the whole trail—just the ground in front of you.
Reflection
“Hope isn’t noise or cheerleading. It’s quiet direction when you can’t see the path.”
That hump reminded me: the sun always comes up. Sometimes it feels like an eternity. Other times, it feels too quick. But it comes. And with it comes clarity, relief, and strength to keep moving.
Life is the same way. Whether you’re hiking in the dark, carrying the weight of caregiving, or just enduring a long season of waiting, the light will return. The details you can’t see now will be revealed.
Closing Encouragement
The darkest moments don’t last forever. The sun will rise again.
The hardest part often comes five minutes before the light breaks. Don’t quit too soon. The dawn may be just around the next bend.
From tools, to instincts, to community, to hope—the outdoors always points us back to life’s lessons.
Thanks for walking this trail with me.