Inland, Dreaming of Waves

The end of darkness

Usually I wake up about 2 or 3 o'clock to go to the bathroom, and sometimes I wander around the house a bit to look at the moon shining into the kitchen or to get a glass of milk. Sometimes I'll wake up Rufus, and he'll start crying in the basement, but I don't let him out. I can't sleep all day the way he does, and if he were out at night, I wouldn't sleep at night either.

Lately I've been noticing how many lights stay on in our house, even though we turn all the overhead lights off when we go to bed. I've taken to turning off the computer monitors at night (we have three, not counting the laptop) because they cast such an eerie glow. And generally I turn off my computer because the CPU flashes, as does Todd's razor in the bathroom. I hate walking into the bathroom and getting blinded by an electronic razor.

But that's not even the half of it. The honeycomb shades in the living room let in the street lights from the end of the cul-de-sac. The sound bridge in our bedroom has a blue light. The Tivo and cable box have their own lights. There are two LCD clocks in the kitchen.

There are nights when I'm driving home up Highway 287 and I enjoy the utter blackness that is Rock Creek Farm open space. It's an oasis of darkness surrouded by the Flatirons Crossing Mall, U.S. 36, and other businesses. It's a wonderful rest for my eyes.

I just wish sometimes that I could find the same inky blackness in my own house.

posted by Price of Silence @ 5:01 PM