Thursday, 24 January 2013

Witching Hour

Carrying on from the last post, where I wrote about things that I see from my bedroom window- my neighbour's neighbour (no, not me you fool, on their other side!!! Ugh) has a lamp in his back garden that goes off if anything goes past it. Kinda like an intruder lamp thing. Only it's utterly pointless because it's perpetually flickering into life and unless he's VERY unfortunate, I'm beginning to suspect that most of these are false alarms...

So I'm leaning out of my window and happen to be gazing in that direction when it comes to life, out of the blue. Now, we had one of these lamps in our back garden when I was like, 8. I remember how I used to have to dance in front of it and wave my arms and legs around to get it to register. 

As this-VERY BRIGHT, I must say- light bursts to life, its intensity is such that it illuminates the surrounding four gardens on either side, including mine. My eyes dart around for the culprit. A cat? A fox? A ninja?! Nothing. His clear, open lawn remains a vast expanse of nothing. As do the neighbours'...

Now I live in such an area where every garden is surrounded on all sides by a neighbouring garden, save the front end where the house is. So each garden has another one situated to its left, right and back. 

Behind the house with the useless burglar alarm is a garden with an enormous tree. The bane of my mothers gardening, when she was around. Its leaves would scatter come autumn time, filling our garden throughout winter and its looming presence would leave our own shrubbery devoid of sunlight in the spring and summer. She HATED that tree...

Well recently, since this guy's light has been flicking into life, I've noticed that it casts a really peculiar shadow on the wall of the property it belongs in. The walls of this house are a pale brown brick- a generic colour of relatively newly built houses. The roof is composed of dark charcoaly black tiles, such that shadows cast on it barely register. And as such, the thick, low hanging branches are the only ones to cast a shadow. Now, when I count them on the tree, there are around 11, but because of how they overlap, they create five distinct blocks of shade, shaped eerily like that of fingers on a hand. 

Each "finger" and "thumb" seems to be coiled around a first floor bedroom window of this house, only barely touching the frame.

It's strange to think that their electricity could be connected somehow or that his lamp could really draw THAT much power, but when I was looking at the shadow, I noticed the bedroom light was flickering. And I link the two things because as soon as the super-stupid burglar alarm switched off, the flickering of the light stopped.

I suppose I'm lucky I live alongside this burglar alarm, I'd hate to be the kid that sleeps in the room directly in front of it. All that light being poured straight into my room every night. I assume it's a kid's room because the bedroom light is incessantly switched on throughout the night.

Anyway, I'm shattered tonight. More soon. Goodnight.

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