There’s an elementary school next to our neighborhood, with a giant dirt field that serves as a playground.  It’s equipped with lights akin to those on a baseball field, and once a week or so those lights are fired up for the local rugby and/or soccer club to practice.

Tonight was one of those nights, and since Ray was not anywhere close to sleeping despite it being his bedtime, and since I was bored of reading Brown Bear for the one millionth time, and he was tired of chewing on his plastic telephone for the three millionth time, we took a walk in the dark.

We wandered out through the rice fields and the recently tilled former barley fields, with the sound of water gurgling along through the irrigation channels and bat flying around here and there.  I was ready to curl up in the road and fall asleep but Ray wasn’t feeling it.  But always there was the glow from the nearby elementary school lights a little distance away, but still casting some light on the green rice.

Along our walk there’s a quick chicane (at least that’s what I call it), and on one of its turns sits a lonely persimmon tree.  I’ve thought about taking a picture of this tree many times, but have never been able to get the shot that I have in my mind.  Tonight I came close.



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