Night: The Time of Life
There's something about the night that speaks to me. It stirs my soul and reawakens my sense of self. Starry nights. Moonless nights. Overcast nights. Whether I am standing on my porch, padding barefoot through the grass next to my driveway, or slipping out the door to take an illicit walk through the neighborhood, I am more alive at night.
Daytime is fine. The sun, warm on flesh, feeds my biological needs. It makes the grass grow and warms the earth. It brings out the squirrels and rabbits that chase each other through my yard and around the trees. But the daytime belongs to everyone. The energy of civilization trying to catch up with itself is deadening.
By the bright light of day, I know what I have to accomplish. But in the dark, I know who I am.
Or maybe I'm just weird.
2 Comments:
We're probably both weird. But that's okay. Life would be boring if everyone were the same. I enjoyed your blog, especially the tombstone entry. Another weirdness about me: I love old cemeteries and old tombstones. They're a link to the past and a time that was.
Can't say I've ever done that. What's your favorite part of cemeteries? Have you ever visited one that just stands out in your mind, even if you don't know why?
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