It’s cool, it’s quiet, and the Moon is up.
Somebody across the bay is still up; I can hear them talking. Sound travels far on a calm night over placid water. Everybody else seems to have turned in, except for the driver of a solitary car that just went by in the distance. It’s all so serene and lovely that it seems a shame to let go of the moment, but it puts you to sleep, the darkness and the quiet and the lights reflecting in the water, smooth like a mirror. Some part of your mind, I suppose something ancient that evolved long before primates, reacts to a scene like this and signals last call.
Something in the big city seems to disable that mechanism. It sure is working now. It’s not even a choice. Off to bed.
the needlefish 