10 Feb

img_8591Where I’m from in Ohio there aren’t many street lights, when it’s dark out; it’s dark. The kind of dark that’s calm, welcoming and gentle. You’re not scared in the darkness there because there is no unknown to fear.

In the fall the sun tucks behind the hill across from my house. A stillness settles in slowly, easing you into the natural light of the night. Stars are close enough to reach out and touch and the moon is a mystical guardian of the rustic orange maple leaves and dull grass blades.

In the winter the air is sharp; stinging your ears, nose, and lungs. The only sound is created by your feet crunching through the thin layer of ice blanketing the snow. Venturing out into the night in the winter is well worth the crisp sting for the sky is at its most clear.

Nights in the spring are short-lived and sloppy. Everything is soggy in its attempt to shake off the cold and regain the healthy stock of green. Summer night are alive, accompanied by the musical talents of crickets and locus.

Ohio nights are dark, there isn’t much around to distract from its stillness. In Florida however nighttime is rarely dark. Streetlights line every street, stop lights are endless, and headlights illuminate the night with enough light that I’ve forgotten its night-time. Forgotten to the point I’ve caught myself halfway down the street before I realize I don’t have my headlights on.

I never forgot my headlights in Ohio.


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