Night things
2001 09 01
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I sat in the darkened room looking out my window; watching the sky in its nightness, with the hazy, indistinct blanket of clouds, with the dark spots where the sky breaks through.
It's peaceful; as a lick of wind comes through the screen and cools the air around me.
There's very little noise ... a ring of distant laughter, tires on pavement several streets away ... sometimes you can almost pretend there's no one else around; or that - at least - you're the only one awake.
Colours are so unreal at night; so intense. They almost seem not even to exist. You expect everything to be dark and dim ... a flash of thick green of a lawn under street lamps; the red brightness of brand new bricks; metallic, sparkling blue of cars painted factory-fresh.
Another delicious lick of wind. It's so magnificently cool. I can hardly wait for the fallen leaves of autumn, for the smells of wood fires, the crispness of clear fall mornings. It's the only time of year I almost wish I lived in the country; perhaps near a forest, so I could walk on pine needles and kick through those piles of fallen leaves. Leaf-scuffing is an honourable activity, you know.