Lately sleep has not come easily for me, and tonight is no exception.  After lying in bed for hours, waiting for the drowsiness to take over I gave up and came outside.  It is cool and quiet out here.  Not even the trees are moving.  I hear the occasional animal call or laughter of late revelers, but mostly I hear my own thoughts.

It is good to be out here, to see how the world looks when it expects me to be sleeping.  A small bell chimes the midnight hour and I wonder who it is notifying.  I could stay here all night waiting for the dark sky to turn light again.

Acquainted with the Night
by Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right
I have been one acquainted with the night.