As I sit here at the Van Ripper-Hopper House Museum waiting for a chipmunk (though I suspect I’ve been stood up), I couldn’t help but notice this light here beside me.
I’m here with my wife and son because they have pumpkin painting (the safer alternative to carving, I guess), and a book signing for a children’s book Miles quite rudely said he wasn’t interested in.
Anyway, while they roam the grounds and his pumpkin dries, I saw a chipmunk sit – twice – on this fence, and thought perhaps if I also sit here for long enough, he might hop back on and let me take his picture. So far, he hasn’t obliged.
In the meanwhile, I saw this light and began wondering how it came to be so twisted.
Like the fence it sits beneath, it has become uprooted, and is on the verge of collapsing entirely. It has no lightbulb, and its exposed wires suggest it isn’t likely to work again. But why is it thus? I don’t imagine it was originally installed that way. The wires lead underground, so some careful thought and planning went into this light. There aren’t any others nearby. It was put in to light the area, and has since been neglected. I feel sorry for it.
Well, my wife is calling me to leave, and the chipmunks are teasing me with their chirps (did you know chipmunks chirp?), but won’t show themselves. At least I saw the light.