Sunday, March 26, 2023

It's Quarter to Three or Along About Midnight

Barela Lane #1

Barela Lane #2

Quiet Steps

Twice in the past month we’ve eaten dinner with friends at the Taos Inn, once in Doc Martin’s and the other in the Adobe Bar. Neither meal was memory making but the company made the evening sparkle despite the gruel listed on the menu as a New Mexican Combination Platter.

Christmas Eve in Brentwood

Each was a snowy evening with flakes glistening like crystals beneath the streetlights and the night sounds hushed by the fluff. The thick air and soft blanket of wet snow created a wondrous and silent night. And since Peggy and I were the only people strolling to the adjacent parking lot it felt, well, like “it’s quarter to three, there’s no one in the place except you and me.”

Nightlights #1

Nightlights #2

Nightlights #3

In a handful of recent Instagram posts I took great license with the time of night. For example, I called one post “Along About Midnight” after Guitar Slim’s 1958 tune. It was really 7:30. Hey, what’s five hours among friends?

The scene struck a chord with us and so I found myself revisiting old nocturnes and contemplating making new ones. Maybe it’s a series to develop. We will see what I will see.

I even have a working title, Nightlights. Or maybe Nightlight singular.

2 comments:

Blacks Crossing said...

You certainly outdid yourself with this post, Steve. Both Varela Lane images show the softness that is snow on adobe and show against a street light. There is something about being alone on a snowy street Along Midnight or quarter to three, or any time, and you showed that perfectly. Not to mention the contrast between Christmas Eve in Brentwood, which must be fascinating (is it quieter, are there crickets, or just the hum of traffic noise?) and Quiet Steps in the Taos snow. Are there quiet steps in Brentwood?
Your selective toning on Nightlights 2 adds its own warmth to the group! I do hope this develops into a series. Muchas gracias, Amigo!

Steve Immel said...

Thanks, Daryl. There is something magical about fresh snow on adobe and tarmac at night that serenely quiet and peaceful.