I have always liked Byron
SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.
When I was a much younger man, I could see in the dark, and it had no fears for me. I actually liked the dark. The one teeny drawback to that, is that everybody else thinks the dark should be spent in bed. I have always disagreed. I treasure the dark.
I could leave my apartment on Grape Street, walk down to the harbor front, walk all the way out to the end of Harbor Island, and then walk home without seeing anybody. It was a 5 mile tramp through the beating heart of a major American city and I could spend it lost in thought, smoking and writing dialog for novels you'll buy next year, and never see a soul.
You could google the image if you like. Start at 215 West Grape Street and then wander down to the harbor front and then walk along it until you get to the restaurant at the end of Harbor Island about 100 yards from where my ship used to moor. I walked that path every day I was in town every night.
San Diego was a big town. Most of those walks didn't start until after 2300. Later, when I moved to Solana Beach I used to walk down to the beach every night and I'd walk as far as the tides and surf permitted. Sometimes, the surf won.
All that time, cloaked in night, I never even thought about my personal safety. No guns, no sword, just a walk in the dark in the moonlight.
I kind of miss those nights. It has been a long time.