Many local residents have sensors which turn on yard lights or driveway lights. At night, as the raccoons and skunks and deer, (not to mention the stray dogs and wandering cats,) make their way around the neighborhood, they often trip the lights. I wonder what they think when the night is suddenly illuminated? They don't seem to be particularly surprised. They certainly don't avoid the houses which have such lights. Perhaps they have adjusted to the phenomenon, and accept it as simply a natural part of their environment. And, if so, would they be surprised if the lights quit working? Something to ponder. But, to me, it is strange to be living in an age when wild creatures can turn on the lights.
The misty air and darkly marbled sky today made a good backdrop for the tangled bare twigs of the trees. Reliable winter gloom has returned, and cheers me no end. However much the crows may protest, I enjoy the grey and bleak days of winter. I wonder if that says anything about my temperament? Whether it does or not, and though a few days hinting of spring are a nice addition to February, too much sunshine this time of year leaves me feeling as though I had missed something. I want all the grey days due me each winter. What light can equal the purple twilight of an overcast February sunset? What rind of waxing moon is more stunning than the one I saw tonight, sliding into view through a gap in a mass of perfect clouds?