The Call of the Night

I need to write. I NEED it. I need it to keep me sane. I need it to put my thoughts together, to help me deal. The problem is that I'm distracted.

I'm distracted by the beautiful views, the crisp cool air, the clean blue skies during the day. They are beautiful to behold, but the elicit barely more than a smile, a brief daydream into the past.

The night sky is another story altogether. I'm distracted by the millions of twinkling stars at night (did you know there are other constellations besides the big dipper?) Distracted by a sky so black it seems a living thing intent on consuming me. I stand outside in the cold night air, a kink in my neck and stare. Stare at the stars I had almost forgotten about. Stare with that suspicion that there are still more to be seen on just the right night, at just the right time. Millions more, brilliant twinkling stars, begging me to stay and watch. To lay down on the cold dirty concrete, near the bags and boxes of debris we've collected, and watch.

The call of the night comming from within me. Encoded on my dna durring millions of years of evolution. By every ancestor leading back the evoulutionary lines. Every ancestor walked in daylight with different views, mountains, or valleys, or rivers or even wide open seas. But at night every one of us has looked upon this sky. This night sky almost unchanged since that first creature crawled out of the sea. To watch and wonder and dream.

In this place I am home again.