Light Work

After basketball last night (we won) I was driving through the back-streets of Hurstville. It was the first hours of darkness following a late evening sunset, the brief gasp of time between darkness falling and children's bed times. I passed a few houses that had been done up with smatterings of Christmas lights and posed decorations, but none could be compared to the epic glory of the last holiday lighted house I passed.
It was a three story McMansion, with its fa├žade adorned like it had been vomited on by a cat who ate a whole kilogram of skittles. Ropes of lights shot out in every direction; thousands of bulbs strung up in a three-dimensional web. Trapped beneath that netting, the front yard was full of reindeer a snowmen and half a dozen santa clauses, all ablaze in the down-lights, and wrapped in fairy light incandescence. The courtyard looked like the acid had kicked in while you were plummeting to your death from a helicopter above Tokyo. In the eleven months I've lived in Sydney it was the most amazing thing I have seen.

Not the lights, the fact that something like this was on display and it wasn't surrounded by people taking photos of it with expensive DSLR cameras.


After I arrived home and showered, Vanessa and I put up our Christmas tree. And then I did take a photo of it with my inexpensive DSLR camera. Then Vanessa put a mirror next to it to make it look like we had more tree.

image 1052 from bradism.com

Comments

Add Comment
Toggle Comments Form
Promoted: The White Suburban

"We'll upgrade you to something more comfortable," the car-wrangler told me. This was the first sign something was wrong.

Promoted: Five Lessons from Speculate 18

Too much for me summarise in a review. Instead, I thought I'd share a single takeaway and challenge from each of the sessions.


Not getting enough emails? Want to receive updates and publishing news in your inbox? Sign up to the bradism mailing list. You'll also receive an ebook, free!