An evening stroll

There are times when one finds the company most suited to one is simple solitude - the companionship of one's own self. This evening was one of those times.

These private moments become necessary when the loud voices from without become a jarring cacophony within one's own mind. The stresses of varying aspects of one's life fight to be heard over one another. Inevitably, one loses the ability to hear one's own thoughts voiced clearly in one's own head. Alas! What does one do when the enemy threatens to take over the last remaining safe place?

One takes a walk.

A simple stroll can be so invigorating - a tonic and balm for most afflictions upon the mind and soul. At the very least, that is the thought that struck me as I set out for the library this evening. I found myself quite cheered by the sudden restructuring of my mind and I do admit it put quite a cheery spring in my step.

In fact, it was this new-found positivity that distracted me so thoroughly that when I happened to glance up at the sky, what I saw puzzled me so that I quite literally stopped walking.

Far above me were a series of small red and blue lights forming quite straight lines, and apparently hovering in mid-air. Naturally, I assumed they were attached to some form of aircraft. I could not, however, identify the nature of the machine itself owing to the fact that I could not make out even the faintest outline against the dark night sky.

A quick survey of the people around was enough to make it clear to me that either none of them had seen the strange apparition, or perchance some had noticed but did not wonder as to how it came to be there in the first place. I was disgusted. What has become of human curiosity? I asked myself. Where has the thirst for knowledge gone?

In the few seconds it took me to process all of this, I had also formulated my own ideas as to the origins of this strange object. I resumed my brisk pace and had barely taken five steps when I looked up to find that my silent suppositions had indeed been correct.

You see, from where I had been standing earlier my vision had been greatly obscured by the dense foliage of a rather tall tree. My new position offered an unencumbered view of the sky, and consequently I finally noticed the fleet of brightly lit aircrafts.

Each one had its own unique set of (what I now realised must be) LED lights set in various circular or linear patterns. Their jarring movements confirmed that they could only be model aircrafts, piloted from close-by via a remote device. I was quite certain as I had first seen these flashy playthings being flown two years before. However, at that time I had been informed by a would-be pilot that they were not altogether that common and that they could cost well over a thousand dollars. Evidently, something has greatly changed since then.

One question still remained - where were the pilots? There were no people standing about, staring intently up at the sky. And surely it would be foolish to attempt to launch or land such a device so close to busy roads. To me that left only one possibility - the small open field next to the library. As luck would have it, that was precisely the direction in which I was headed, and I stared intently into the darkness straining to make out the figures of the people I knew must be there.

My efforts were soon rewarded when a triangular craft illuminated by its own pulsing light came in slowly for an unsteady landing against a sudden gust of wind. Not far behind it stood a row of people, clearly piloting the wild assortment of objects hovering above us all.

There it was. My questions had been answered. My theories proved correct.

My curiosity was satisfied and the bright lights in the sky captivated me no longer. All my attentions were now focused on the library and the wonders it contained.

I suppose I could easily have summarised my evening adventure by saying something along the lines of, "Spotted some men flying remote control aircrafts covered it tiny lights. What a lark!"

But that would not have been fun at all.