Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
(Credit: www.flickr.com/photos/asimgoheer/468025798) I love the sounds of the night. My best thinking, mulling over, & creative processing is done at night. Over the years I have tried & tried to adjust my body clock to being a morning person. Truthfully, there just isn't enough coffee on the planet to make it happen. My most recent job required me to be at work at 6am which meant I had to get up at 4am to ensure I was showered & ready for work. It was a painful experience. (the job & the getting up early) I'm just one of those people that comes alive after dark. I discovered night time shelling out of necessity. I worked all day & by the time I finished my domestic duties at home - well it was dark. One night there was an especially low tide at 10pm. I hadn't been shelling in forever because my daylight hours were being dedicated to earning a living & wifely chores. The hubby had already ...
