At times writing is effortless. Other times nightmarish. But it's always therapeutic.

The night: I define it beauteous.

with 3 comments

I love the night. I can sit through it and let it endow me with its peace and calm as long as it lasts. The night is like a coconut fruit. After you remove the rough dying skin, which is the noise and chaos of people and things moving up and down during the day, you are left with a fruit with a hard housing. That is the settling night. When you crack into that housing you find the purity of a fruit perpetually covered and protected until then. That is the settled night when everyone goes to sleep. Little creatures will come out then because it’s quiet. Like them, I also like that moment.

In those hours towards and past midnight, I will open the door and stand outside. I will look beyond at the roof of other houses. I will feel the wind. I will thank God. I will let the wind hit my coat and rub my neck and kiss my face and blow at my feet. I will love the night the most then. I will wonder why people sleep early. I will wonder why they don’t wait for such peace. I will wish they could let their mind free, in the midst of such silence and meditate on their lives. I will pity those that fear the night. I will take the camera and capture the moon if it’s out.

I then look at my kind neighbour’s potted plants outside her corridor or the steel post of street light that comes under this tree that makes very good silhouette when the sun is rising. It’s not quiet all the time. Sometimes people’s roaming dogs will make horrible noises. I must say when a dog’s howling is the only noise of the night, you’ll listen to it and think of its meaning. The problem is you cannot be out in the wind for long and often my toes will start feeling the pain of near-numbness. I will then go back to the couch or desk to drink milk, eat mangoes or work for sometime [I was 2 hours ago trying to understand Wi-Fi network Access Points set up] and then go out again or go to sleep.

When you appreciate the night with your mind, sometimes it will wander. I for example just remembered a man named Brett Chalmers in the book The Noble One by Denise Robins. I read it long ago and can read it again. A story of adolescent love that ends in a happy and most fulfilling marriage. A story of Dale, a rich girl in love with park animals and who is immensely attracted to the new old fashioned, poor but tall game warden, Brett. A story of rich boy Keith who loves game hunting and is destined to marry Dale since the two families are in the same social class. Keith hunts the animals that Dale loves. He won’t stop his hobby for Dale but will still want to marry her. A really sweet story of how Dale gradually falls in love with kind and bold Brett, and who for the sake of Dale’s happiness, stops Keith from killing animals. Dale and Brett marry and live happily until the last page. I don’t know what happens outside the books’ pages.

For them that would be creative, most lovers of the night will find their optimum state in silent times. That is when the mind will string observations lived during the day into well knit words to make beautiful literary fabrics. That is when they will be clear to make sense of events. That is when they will be bold enough to think beyond conformity. It is then that they will solidify their convictions. They will form their independence of thought at that time of silence and non-interference. They will think of people they talked to in the day and they will see them through. They will see the vanity and value of a variety of things. Silence of the night gives them purity of thought. Here are the words of one of such people;

Unto this night
At length do I speak
I define it beauteous
Whilst others proclaim it bleak.

I will now go to bed…or watch BBC programs.


Written by coldturkey

March 3, 2012 at 1:11 AM

Posted in Uncategorized

3 Responses

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  1. You’ve described the magic of night time beeeeeeautifully…


    March 7, 2012 at 5:45 PM

  2. Ah oh, you’re one serious night owl *tips hat* 🙂


    March 7, 2012 at 5:46 PM

    • Asanti Nyambura. I can see night owl eyes on you too, right?

      Cold Turkey

      March 19, 2012 at 3:15 PM

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