Spring is in full swing here in the Southern half of the Korean peninsula, and the frogs have begun to overtake the filling rice fields. Herons are often seen grazing along the pooling waters while a wider and wider variety of birds swoop along the surface, catching whatever moves - swiftly and with the ease of masters.
But as the fields become benighted once again, and the air begins to cool and the birds begin to roost in the warmth of their nests and colonies, the frogs alert all who can hear that they are still strong in numbers. Their songs are so ebullient that I find myself filled with bubbles of excitement. I've come to leave every possible window open so that I can listen to them sing into the night air.
Benighted | bi-ˈnī-təd: adjective: overtaken by darkness or night; existing in a state of intellectual, moral, or social darkness, unenlightened
What I enjoy about words like this is that they have multiple uses, but sometimes one use is more widely accepted - and thus more widely seen in written works. The prime example here is that the first definition of benighted is considered archaic, despite being the original meaning of the word. Instead, it has evolved to mean darkness of the mind, which I enjoy as much as I do the original use.
When I first read the word, I have to admit that my brain automatically added a k in front of nighted, so my first image was of an otter (as that's what I was reading about) dressed in knightly clothing and kneeling to be knighted by a hare. My imagination often runs wild with these depictions before I have a chance to look up the actual meaning. Also, it can be a little too literal at times.
Benighted | bɪˈnaɪ.t̬ɪd: adjective: without knowledge or morals
As stated above, benighted is more often seen as the second definition than it is as the first definition. And it was the second definition that I first saw the word used in Loamhedge. The better part of this was that it was used in dialogue by a hare who was in way over his head.
If you aren't familiar with the hares of the Redwall series by Brian Jacques, you are in for a small taste of what happens when one gets hungry. They are very talkative creatures by nature, but when they're even slightly uncomfortable, their talking turns to moaning and complaining quickly. I imagine it to be both an endearing and irritating quality about them in the eyes of their comrades.
Horty continued with his tirade. "Rumbles, rumbles? How could benighted buffoons such as you know about the rumblings of a sad tragic hare, whose life is bein' cut short by the contagious thirstation an' tummyrumbles?"
I must admit, I adore both definitions of this word, and I'm excited to add it to my vocabulary. Which way do you prefer its use? Do you agree that the first and original definition is archaic? What other words would you possibly use in its place? Let me know all that and more, and until tomorrow, happy reading!
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