Urban Twilight
Aug. 27th, 2005 11:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jagashThere is magic in the night.
Its a strange state, the world standing in silence and noise. It is neither presence of sound, nor the absence. It is a blend of the two, the sound of soft wind blowing over my ears while cars pass in the distance behind. The night feels cool, not cold nor warm. Its the indistinct quality, comfort of a almost unique yet nebulous form. The smells are of water and life, faint woodsmoke from no obvious origin drifting over me. These odors are not potent, but rather subtle in character. The wind brushes my face, soft caresses of the intangable.
Then theres the twilight. Sight is the foremost of our senses, and it tells us much of our world. Above us is the darkness, an abyss endless and eternal. Looking downwards oncemore, the world can be seen though the craft of man. Steetlamps and headlights, luminous signs and the caprivating light of a blue led. These lights shed pools of thier influence, each shrouded in turn by cloaks of deep shadow wich surround each pool and ray off glow. The light isn't bright, nor is there darkness deep. Instead, the urban landscape is lit with ambiance; it holds a luster like unto no other. Secrets can be seen, but not laid bare for all. Hopes can be gleaned, safe in thier obscuring mists. Truths and revelations surround the man who walks in the Urban Twilight.
There is magic in the night, mystic in the twilight. Someday, i shall head its call.
Its a strange state, the world standing in silence and noise. It is neither presence of sound, nor the absence. It is a blend of the two, the sound of soft wind blowing over my ears while cars pass in the distance behind. The night feels cool, not cold nor warm. Its the indistinct quality, comfort of a almost unique yet nebulous form. The smells are of water and life, faint woodsmoke from no obvious origin drifting over me. These odors are not potent, but rather subtle in character. The wind brushes my face, soft caresses of the intangable.
Then theres the twilight. Sight is the foremost of our senses, and it tells us much of our world. Above us is the darkness, an abyss endless and eternal. Looking downwards oncemore, the world can be seen though the craft of man. Steetlamps and headlights, luminous signs and the caprivating light of a blue led. These lights shed pools of thier influence, each shrouded in turn by cloaks of deep shadow wich surround each pool and ray off glow. The light isn't bright, nor is there darkness deep. Instead, the urban landscape is lit with ambiance; it holds a luster like unto no other. Secrets can be seen, but not laid bare for all. Hopes can be gleaned, safe in thier obscuring mists. Truths and revelations surround the man who walks in the Urban Twilight.
There is magic in the night, mystic in the twilight. Someday, i shall head its call.
