In Chap­ter 216 of “All the Col­ors of the Dark,” the nar­ra­tive revolves around Saint and Char­lotte as they clear land for a new project. Dur­ing a long week­end, they labor intense­ly under the sun, tack­ling the roots of moun­tain lau­rel, witch hazel, and wild blue­ber­ry. Their dili­gent work is punc­tu­at­ed by breaks for meals, where they enjoy beans, ham hocks, and corn­bread, which Char­lotte has per­fect­ed. The atmos­phere is influ­enced by the mem­o­ries of Nor­ma, espe­cial­ly as they are accom­pa­nied by the back­ground hum of Char­lot­te’s bees.

On a key Sun­day, an arborist arrives to cut down sev­er­al oak trees, pro­vid­ing his ser­vices for free in exchange for tim­ber. Saint offers him but­ter cake, which frus­trates Char­lotte, who had intend­ed to use every crumb. After­ward, they con­tin­ue their efforts, clear­ing a thir­ty-by-thir­ty sec­tion in prepa­ra­tion for the stu­dio that Sam­my’s con­trac­tor is set to lay foun­da­tions for in a week. Ini­tial­ly hes­i­tant, Char­lotte even­tu­al­ly acknowl­edges her desire for a per­son­al cre­ative space.

Char­lotte often express­es her feel­ings about Nor­ma, not­ing how time and dis­tance impact their grief. She and Saint reflect on the nature of prayer, sug­gest­ing that it serves more as a reminder of what tru­ly mat­ters rather than a request for divine inter­ven­tion. The chap­ter cap­tures moments of humor, like when Char­lotte play­ful­ly calls a fall­en tree her ‘bitch,’ con­trast­ing with more somber reflec­tions.

As the evening approach­es, the land is final­ly clear enough for machin­ery to arrive. How­ev­er, tran­quil­i­ty is dis­rupt­ed when Saint dis­cov­ers what appears to be a mul­ti­tude of bones in the ground. The dis­cov­ery cor­re­lates with the unset­tling arrival of Offi­cer Michaels, who omi­nous­ly announces that a mur­der has occurred near­by, shift­ing the day’s labor into a focus on a dark­er real­i­ty that looms over the com­mu­ni­ty. This chap­ter blends themes of cre­ation and destruc­tion, encap­su­lat­ing both the strug­gles of clear­ing land for new begin­nings and the haunt­ing echoes of the past.