rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Watching Night Fade

A moonless night, but cloudless as well, so the late summer stars are bright. The chill air is stirred by the slightest of breezes, barely enough to make the pines go shhhh. I obey, and hear the sound of my breath in the darkness. The deciduous trees, which autumn soon will strip to their bare branches, and the pines, whose dark bulk will tower against the sky all winter, tonight frame and segment the dome of stars, which seems brightest in the southeast where Orion now rises ahead of the dawn. I cannot see the ground, but feel it as I hear my soft-soled footsteps on the pavement. Two notes sound for each step, one low and one higher. From the end of the driveway I can see, up the street, a single window lit. Reminded that I am not alone, I feel a sense of isolation. Far to the north, a sound rises. A car speeds down the road a block west, and soon passes unseen, but for the flash of its headlights on the undersides of the trees. I listen to its rush fade southward. Reminded of journeys, I feel a sense of stagnation. Standing in the enveloping silence, I am suddenly aware that there is no sound of insects. The crickets have not chirped tonight. Reminded that entire realms pass with the seasons, I feel a sense of transience. The night is barely vast enough to contain my desires. Then, quite suddenly, it seems, I see the white of the picket fence across the street emerge from the darkness. Night is fading, and most of the stars have vanished from the pale sky. How long have I stood here? I sense my house, which I had forgotten, looming behind me. I must return to its confinement. As I close the door on the waking world, I am struck by how much it is diminished by the light. I must seek the vast darkness of sleep.

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