At night when the light poles flicker to a full, and the cricket conductor readies his orchestra, the night consumes the town. Songs smooth to a slow, and breaths of fresh night air fill the lungs of the living. At night everything changes, loud minds quiet, and loud people find the serenity of silence. Friends and family open their hearts, vulnerable to the dark. Even for a minute, they change. Night blooming flowers open, waiting to be pollinated by stardust. At night fireflies replace shadows, and a mine field of acorns becomes illuminated. Decorating the earth's surface with potential, hidden in tiny capsules. A simple foggy breath could be heard by the neighbors if you weren't careful.Trees whisper to each other as the wind serves their motion and allow the leaves to flutter like eyelashes during sleep.Growing dew begins to gather, sliding down blades of untamed grass. Loose pages of lost knowledge fly away to a better land. They take off, away with the wind; waving to the stationary houses far below. Like a flock of birds they soar. Caressing the horizon with their wings, tucking in the setting sun. At night the animals replace cars on the street, eyes florescent like headlights. Weathered paws, wet asphalt, tiny gekkers.  Read me a story oh clouds, tell me a tale of the moon. Put me to sleep with the rhythm of your breese. The beauty of stars in the sky. Shine oh constellations, show me your production. Let me watch your story and witness your dance among the darkness. The complete uncomparable silence. The purest of silence you have ever heard. At night you lay still. Waiting for morning, the familiar. Allowing yourself to miss the great change of everything from ordinary to strange. Strange indeed.