Sunday Morning Coming Down

There are many reasons why I love this season. One of which is the early arrival of night. When I read the following, I knew the person who wrote it shared my psyche.
" Darkness begins her descent around five pm. By six I'm back in my world.
I've always loved darkness, dim lights and a touch of chill to the air--It's like my blanket that absorbs some of the impact of the hammer weights.
I want, no need, the comfort of small warm, cozy spaces.
That's why dark is light to me...
Heat and sunshine are not my friends. We tolerate each other like relatives you know are there but you don't like to deal with unless you have to."

There was a time in my life when I found joy and pleasure in the company of others. There was nothing I loved more than a family get-together or a company party.
I can pinpoint the exact moment when that began to change. I lost my ability to trust people. Especially with my heart, my loyalty and my faith. When I needed them most, almost everyone I knew failed me. I was left, alone, spiraling into the darkness of depression. It was then I discovered the asylum of darkness. Alone in my dark little world I could sleep, or dream, but most of all escape. My lonely tortured soul found comfort in the quiet stillness of the long autumn and winter nights.
I dread the coming of summer. The oppressive heat and the constant buzz, buzz, buzz of people all around me. The slamming of doors, the sounds of children playing in the streets. Lawnmowers blasting out their roar as the cut a pathway through our yards. Cars racing up and down the highways on their way to summer vacations. The noise shatters my inner peace.
Sometimes I want to scream BE QUIET!

Then comes autumn. People move indoors. It's as if there's been a muffler added to the world around me. I can breathe in the sweet smells of burning leaves, candy apples and cinnamon. And darkness arrives earlier and lasts longer.
I am a night owl. If I could, I'd perch as the owl does, on a branch and watch the quiet calm of night unfold around me. Ah how sweet that twould be.
Maybe insomnia is not so bad after all.
Is there little wonder that this is one of my favorite songs?
Hello darkness my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again.
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seed while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone,
Narrow streets of cobble stone.
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp,
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never shared,
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.

"Fools!" said I, "you do not know,
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell...
And echoed in the wells of silence.

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon gods they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming,
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls."
And whispered in the sound of silence.