The Music of the Night

​Night time sharpens,
Heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses
Abandon their defenses…

… listen to the music of the night

 (Music of the Night, Lyrics by Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe)
​

Yesterday, the harsh winter gave an inch, and spring took a mile. Overnight, we went from the depths of winter to late spring.  The temperature rose by 42 degrees!  Folks were out and about in their shorts and tank tops.  Where the bike path had been desolate, it was now teeming with joggers, walkers, bikers, and dogs on long leashes.  Everyone was smiling.  Even the dogs.

It was so good to be back outdoors, and to be free of coats and hats, boots and gloves.  After a day outdoors, I found myself tiring early, and I headed to bed about 9:00 PM with the windows wide open.

Despite my fatigue, I lay awake in bed for hours, the air alive with sounds, sounds that a winter night keeps to itself behind the cloak of darkness, closed windows, and insulating snow.

I lay in my bed, listening to the quiet, whispered song of the ceiling fan circling overhead.  Occasionally, the long silver chain jingled on the twirling air like a choir of tiny bells.

A long train rumbled in the distance like a thundering bass drum.  The building shook like a giant morocco.  The train’s air horn accentuated the beat with a mighty vibrato.

Cars whooshed down the four-lane highway at the end of my drive, nylon brushes against brass cymbals.

Sirens screamed in the near-distance like blares from a horn while a helicopter hovered overhead with the steady chop-chop of its propeller.

A soft breeze kept the mini blinds tapping a steady beat against the window frame.

The night was a dark theater.  The phantom of summer had returned.  I listened in awe-filled silence as I welcomed back the music of the night!