In new places, I like to go on walks. I get to explore the unknown scenery. I get to meet the locals and wave at the neighbours (which usually either gets me invitations for sweet tea and cookies, or stared at like I’m some kind of alien who really must not understand the basic social nicety of minding my own damn business), and stare at all kind off flora and fauna and pretty much just revel in the fact that I have no idea what *anything* is at all.
“What kind of tree is that? What is that plan called? I’ve never seen an insect like that before…”
I’ve found myself back in a familiar place, and I’m not struck with the same desire to go out and explore.
Except at night.
The world is different at night, and so are people. Conversations during the day “Oh, hey, I didn’t know you were in town! What are you doing right now?”
Conversations at night “Have you ever thought about if people could speak through memory?”
Who you are and where you’ve been is so much less important than ‘Why are you out tonight?”
The folks one meets in the local park, ordering pizza at one in the morning are unlike any other people to be found anytime, anyplace.