A light rant

If you can’t stand the dark then get out of the mountains.

There’s an agreement on Sandy Lane – keep your lights off at night unless you’re getting in and out of your car, you’re having a get together or you’re about to shoot a bear that’s in your trash.

A pair of new neighbors don’t get it. Their lights are on all night long, and not just little porch lights which are forgivable if you’re waiting for someone to return home from elbow exercises down at the Little Bear. I’m talking about flood lights. The kind designed to illuminate the moon.

Big 500-watt lights on stands pointed right at my bedroom window. Lights used to scare away the Boogie man or mountain lion so their little yappy dogs can go pee in the yard.

Now, Mr. “I’m An Engineer” is a newby to the mountains. He also likes to spend his summer afternoons calculating intake. Unfortunately, the day I very nicely went over to chat with them about their lights (everyone says, talk to your neighbor! The world will be a better place if we just talk to each other!) I encountered Mr. “I’m An Engineer” in the middle of a well-engineered bender.

“I don’t have any floodlights!” he protested until I pointed out the set above the garage which he has never noticed since buying the house. “Well, those don’t work.”

I beg to differ.

There’s no use arguing with a drunk and they are my least favorite people. You might was well talk to a tick.

People live in the mountains for several reasons: solitude, quiet, darkness, adventure, spirituality.

I suppose 500-watt lamps are Mr. “I’m An Engineer’s” form of illumination.

Engineers are so literal.

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