My eyes, no longer weighted by torpor, look as if seeing all for the first time, darting vigilant and attentive…ready at the taking of every small detail, at the catching of every feature of the quarters that they survey.
The lowered roll up blinds on the store fronts that gift me with an image of serenity.
They seem like eyelids stretched over big somnolent eyes, that aided by the night quiet, had fallen asleep at the glow of the yellowish and artificial night lights on the sidewalks, without suffering for the absent_ chaotic coming and goings of the people.
My old town, so tranquil and hushed, has an intriguing and hypnotic magnetism.
I am fascinated by the spinning leaves dragged by the breeze that flee, chase, embrace and once again separate.
I jolt at the sudden noise of a nervous flutter of wings by a nocturnal bird, frightened by my presence.
As I walk that familiar walk away from the train station …I am at ease with the encroaching blackness of the night, well in the embrace of my warm top coat…and in wait of the lazy unwinding of the late night …ready to catch every minimal transformation, every unusual manifestation of pulsating life behind the shades of night.