Night

I live in the East end of London. I live with noise pollution. I also live with light pollution. Silence isn’t just golden here, it’s platinum. It shimmers in the night sky, as a round disc of precious metal.

Last night, the couple downstairs argued until after midnight. I fell asleep to shouts and curses, with police car sirens wailing outside.

But tonight, I open my windows and I gaze up at the sparkling indigo blanket above me. I watch a lunar eclipse in full swing. Slowly, bit by tiny bit, the pale round moon draws a red veil over her beautiful face. Tonight there are no arguments from the flat below. There are no wild all-night parties with thumping music and drunken shouts. Tonight, there is just the moon and I. It’s a special gift and I am honoured to receive it. I feel as if a lover has chosen this quiet night to reveal herself to me. She has hidden her glory for so long, but tonight she glows with a burning, pulsating, crimson hue.

I pull my blanket tighter around me and look away. I’m embarrassed that I’m becoming so aroused. And as I shift my gaze, I see my neighbours on the street below. They are blessedly quiet for once. They stare straight up at the sky, pointing with delighted smiles on their faces. One of them catches my eye and he nods happily. It’s beautiful. There is no need for words between us. Silence is golden, but the moon is worth so much more.