On my way to bed after a hard day's night in the studio, I heard music coming from the room that plays host to the computer. Around here it's what most would refer to as 'the study'. Others would call it the spare bedroom. I call it Ben's room. Ben is my son and moved out some ten years or so ago.
Anyhow, I'd left i-Tunes playing from earlier in the day and so came in to turn it off and shut down the computer. Sitting down at the machine, despite the late hour, I thought I'd check visitors to my blog. Surprisingly there were two logged in for today's date - Sunday, 02.05am. Who are these people? Don't they have beds to go to? Things to do? People to see? Or are they like me? Nighthawks. Up late, burning the midnight oil, when most folk are either out burning the other end of the candle or tucked up in bed, dreaming about doing the same.
Whoever you are, hello. And goodnight. I need to turn in and prepare for another day of toil. But it's good to know I'm not alone in the wee small hours.
Night night, sleep tight.
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