Lamplighter

Evenings. The perfect time for reflections and ruminations. Memories, some floating back to what seems like eons ago, but was probably just a series of ripples in the pool of your life. The pleasant cold of the spring evening brings a touch of the chill, and is perfectly countered by the life-giving warmth of the lamp. And you think, and you go over seasides, and mountains, and forests with dripping lichens, cities with magnificently lit skylines, and you marvel at the beauty and majesty in it all. And then you go back to the paper you are supposed to be have been writing two hours ago.