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A love letter to the night

I thrive among the late hours after midnight

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PHOTO: Thula Na / Unsplash

By: Hailey Miller, Staff Writer

I am a night owl through and through. I can’t help that I’m in my absolute prime following the hours past midnight. The depths of darkness cascade through the night, blanketing the stars before twilight emerges and morphs into the break of dawn. I am as nocturnal as an actual owl. The eerie sounds of night are the soundtrack to my life. They call my name, enticing me with each constellation that dazzles upon the sky. I do my best work between late night and the hours that precede dawn. I guess you could consider this my own version of the witching hours. I thrive during these hours, concocting potions of passion and emitting spells of creativity — there is no greater time to write a song, do an assignment, or aimlessly comb through my thoughts. 

I’m a sucker for the city lights and the night life — from live music to catching up with friends, the hums of the pubs abuzz with chatter and clinking glasses, the radiance of the marquee lights, and the neon signs in all their fluorescent beauty. The resonance of rhythms and lyrics of live music serenade me in the distance — from sold-out stadium shows to crowded bar gigs. The streets that whisper our names and the outings that tempt our souls. The late night tastings of fine dining with the clinking of expensive silverware. The contrary: a quick grab-and-go bite to eat from a real hole-in-the-wall serving up grub long past midnight. The hollers of “last call” and the screeching of stools being stacked on top of tables upon close. The late night movies that end as the lights are shut off and the last kernel of popcorn pops. The late night study sessions in coffee shops, kept awake by caffeine and the camaraderie of fellow students’ studies. The night shift workers and the party animals alike, alongside the ambience of a night out.

There is something about these late-night experiences you just can’t find during any other time of day. There is a particular peculiarity that comes along with being a night owl — a knack for the moonlit hours, a sense of longing for the dark once the day breaks. I can’t turn off the nocturnal side of my brain; being a night owl is ingrained in me. I feel it in my blood, as it trickles through my veins. It pulsates, it radiates, as the clock ticks and the time passes by. If nocturnal energy was celebrated, I’d be thriving in every which way. Yet somehow, I am energized by the night. The passions penetrate and the creativity flows. I do my assignments late at night because we all know diamonds are made under pressure. I chat with friends who ask why I’m still up, and I respond with the same inquisitive curiosity and a questionable answer. Why is it that we excel during these hours?

I know this schedule is not ideal — believe me, I don’t need a reminder or a judgemental remark. Being a night owl is not the picture of sleep health — I know it, and I get it. I contradict all my other healthy habits by staying up long past dark, so, don’t take this late-night advice. Don’t follow in the footsteps of us nocturnals in our streetlight shadows. We are the evening adventurers who would rather be anywhere but in bed fast asleep — the ones who can’t sleep regardless of how many hours we get, or how early we go to bed. It doesn’t matter if I get four hours of sleep or 12, I’ll still be living my night owl dream. Kudos to all the productive early birds out there, but I’ll choose basking in the glory of my nighttime extravaganza of staying up late any night of the week. So, here I am, exposing my bad habits and calling myself out so you don’t have to. At this point, it’s not just a bad habit, but rather, a lifestyle. One that, clearly, I’ve unintentionally abided by regardless of the circumstances.

I’ve tried to be a morning person, really, I have, but I am just not cut out to be an early bird. I don’t even begin to function until the late morning hours. I know, I know, “just go to bed earlier,” you’ll say. If morning started around noon, then that would be a different story, but midnight is my afternoon. I’ll live vicariously through the productive early birds who get the worm and finish half their day’s worth of chores and tasks before I’m even up and out of bed. I’ll save the late-night laundry for my midnight escapades and check items off my to-do list while the crickets cheep. I’ll revel in the liveliness of the city streets and the at-home nightly creativities alike. When morning comes, I’ll sleep past the rooster’s crow and the hustle and bustle of the early morning rush hour in the sunlit glow. If I’m feeling adventurous, I’ll get up to watch the sunrise — but I’d rather catch the sunset instead. I’ll cozy up in bed until the day’s demands call my name and the song of my alarm clock strikes a single chord before I hit the snooze button. Until then, I’ll take a double shot of espresso, and I’ll see you at noon. 

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