In the wee small hours, someone’s working

In January this year, I took a photo from my kitchen window every day and posted it on Instagram.  The photos I took at night, or very early in the morning,  before it turned light, are the most interesting I think. (The ones taken during the day mostly involve wheelie bins on our patio…).  In the photo below, it seems to me, the lights in the houses behind ours appear to be in a conversation, keeping each other company, looking out for each other while the rest of the world is sleeping.  The truth is, in all likelihood, less romantic, and is perhaps to do with shift work, sleepless babies, illness, exam study, insomnia – or perhaps something more exciting, sinister, sad.  I’ll never know.  One of those windows is in a big house divided into flats and bedsits, I never know who’s living there or what anyone does.  The other light might be a street light, or security light, it’s hard to tell. For writers, especially those of us with multiple jobs, living with other people, the wee small hours are often a good time for uninterrupted work, a chance to write in a distraction-free environment while the rest of the house is dreaming.  So if I’m ever awake before a new day has started, and I see a light on the distance, I wish them well, I wish them words, and,  if someone sees my light, I hope they’ll wish me the same.

Head over to the Weekly Photo Challenge for more interpretations of Nighttime.

5 thoughts on “In the wee small hours, someone’s working”

  1. I always enjoyed night shifts, being about when others are not, watching from the darkness when sleep is the order of the moment. Walking fencelines and standing in pools of light waiting for the shift change to arrive, coffee and bacon sandwiches, night TV or board games. Surreal memories,


    1. I’ve never done regular shift work, and although people tell me they adjust to the change in sleeping patterns, I imagine that must be difficult. I find it comforting, when I can’t sleep, and see signs of life somewhere else in the world. Thanks for commenting, Jim.


  2. I found your post very moving. In the wee small hours of the morning, I feel most connected to the world, and to myself. I like your idea of wishing well and wishing words. I’m going to do the same 🙂


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