Night air

The wind was brisk. My jacket was warm and I didn't mind the cold air. But the metal tripod in my hand was starting to get cold, and my hand was starting to get cold so I wouldn't stay out too long.



The nighttime is the right time. Places are empty. A new world of light and shadow, and even color appears. Though often the color is the ghastly orange-yellow of streetlamps.



There is nobody here except me and the ducks.



Sometimes it is useful to get out in the clear night air to clear your mind.