There’s no moon tonight, just galaxies. Despite the littering stars up the sky, there’s pitch darkness on the path leading to my granny’s place. This night is unusual. I know this small village to be cold at night. However, tonight the aura is indifferent. The air is mild and the harmattan breeze is nowhere to be found. The hills surrounding the village stand ancient. Like sentries they keep the village protected.
The flickering lights of solar lamps come alive when I step close. They line the lonely road. Off the tarred roads are dusty bush paths with no light safe from the ones provided by night insects. The bush is alive with many stories of light and sound. Night insects sing in many tongues. The bass, some trembling and even softer symphonies are rampant. Crickets are the loudest, a clear example of the small with mighty voice. Huge moths and night butterflies investigate my torchlight and I had to wade them softly away from it. Fireflies dance away from night lights, including my phone and torchlight to create a glint of their own. I’m a passerby who is happy to enjoy the moment.
In a few hours, we will welcome a new year. It’s 31st December and I want to be the first to wish you all a beautiful year ahead.