Not That Sparkly, But Peaceful
This afternoon, the whole family went to the park.
Dad took the chance to go for a run, while Mom and Boons didn't have any big plans. The two of us found a grassy hill, stretched out to relax, just chilling and waiting for Dad.
The sunset came down slowly.
The grass had just been cut so it smelled nice. There were quite a few families having picnics around us, kids running around, adults chatting, and a few kites drifting above.
Even though the park was crowded, Mom and Boons could still hear crickets in the grass, and somewhere, even frogs.
Mom lay there looking at the sky getting darker and suddenly asked:
— I wonder if we can see stars here?
Then, before anyone could answer, Mom decided for herself:
— Probably not. We're in the middle of the city, too many lights. The city lights make the stars fade away.
Boons, lying next to me, said:
— That's right. Last time I took the train to the countryside, I could still see stars even with the lights on. In the city, it's light pollution, Mom.
Mom kept lying there looking at the sky, but in her head, she raised an eyebrow a little:
My boy even knows the concept of "light pollution." Impressive.
The sky got a little darker.
Far away, the streetlights started turning on one by one. The grassy hills in the park slowly faded into twilight. There were still lots of people walking, families still sitting on the grass, but somehow the scene felt quieter than in the afternoon.
Mom looked at the rows of trees and said:
— If they put some lights in those trees, it would look really sparkly, right? Plus, it would be brighter for everyone to play.
Boons objected right away:
— No, Mom. That would just be more light pollution.
Then he added, very naturally:
— Parks need to be peaceful.
Mom:
— …
This time, Mom really didn't know what to say.
I was just thinking like a grown-up: a few more strings of lights would make it prettier, brighter, more sparkly.
But Boons thought that some places just don't need more lights.
Maybe so you can still hear the crickets.
So the frogs can still croak somewhere under the grass.
So the sky gets a chance to get dark.
And so a park in the middle of the city can still keep a little bit of its peace.
Mom lay there a little longer, looking up at the darkening sky.
Yeah.
I really did feel peaceful.
Maybe he was right.
Once we were rested, the two of us got up. Boons pushed his bike, and I hurried along behind, both of us going to find Dad so we could go home.
Behind us, the park stayed just dark enough.
Not that sparkly.
But peaceful.
