There is no black like as pure as the African night. It is not deigned the dark continent for naught. Pitch dark as a coal mine (and I have worked in one so I know), you cannot reach out and see your hand in front of your face. The only respite from the ebony is the blinding flash of lightening illuminating faces around you in startling clarity. I fear little and venture far, but caught out in the night when electricity is cut at 11pm is daunting and scary and yet full of intrigue. The constellations and milky way are within reach and I realize what we miss in our neon enclaves ... and yet I long sometimes for that safety net of knowing what I will find around the next corner.

As well, I wonder why I am intrigued to stay up long past the electricity has gone to bed to ponder such things.