Dont get me wrong, I do love the shore and the magical colours of the evening sky and the water, but without the music (or good company), I would rather just sit by the shore and take it all in!
This Monday evening however, as the sun set, darkness also descended. It dawned on me that the power had gone, streetlights were off, and the matchbox flats all around were dark. The odd apartment with an inverter or a genset looked like an incongruous, out-of-season Deepavali display.
I want to record the strange feeling that overcame me, as I stumbled along the dark path, unsure of my footing.
One, I felt foolish and inadequate as the street dogs and stray cats darted around confidently while I kind of walked blind.
Two, it seemed that the roar of the water was much more (I had turned off my iPod) than normal as a hush descended, no motors, TVs, fan whirrs I guess, and more laughter and chatter floated in the air.
Three, it brought back memories almost fifteen years ago of a night in the Himalayas when we trekked through the Great Himalayan National Park and darkness descended and we were nowhere near our destination. That pitch black, I next experienced at Mamandur on a night walk again. Its a weird feeling, like walking around blindfolded, and for a city dweller like me, I realise how I have lost touch with all my other senses, in order to navigate.
Four, my mind rambled (it does that all the time) to how night lighting has changed the way we live, changed the planet, and how every other species has had to adapt to this human intervention. We love lights, it makes us happy and cheerful, the more neon signs there are, we feel we have progressed and we are prosperous.
Will we willingly reduce our night lights, for the sake of all those other creatures, lights in advertising hoardings, buildings and public places? Maybe we need a green tax on unnecessary night lighting...or am I being a killjoy?