You may not have noticed. And if you do, you forget. The streetlights are changing colour.
The once raw orange that lit a thousand back alleys is changing to clinical white. Search online for ‘changes to Los Angeles at night’, and you will find a perfect example of what this does to a cityscape.
There have been rumours that this can affect your sleep. That this new glow is somewhere on the spectrum of light which tricks your brain into thinking morning is here every hour of the day.
Trust me, this is a good thing.
Imagine an island filled with terrible monsters, ones that make the Cyclops and the Minotaur look domesticated. This island is half a mile from shore, but the water in between is so deep and wild, nothing can possibly cross. Now imagine someone builds a bridge that connects the two.
This was the achievement of the orange glow. Something that had waited between the cracks of the pavement, in the prehistoric oil of the bitumen, crept out and bathed in the light. This is why even when this modern world should be a paradise at any hour, you still hide your phone when you ventured out after dark.
Those in charge of changing the lights get a lot of stick. But they are smashing the destruction of this menace. The white streetlights are spreading. It has been a monumental project, hands across the world and trillions of different currencies spent, but a real success story.
For us, nothing changes. But for the creatures who glide through their orange world, this is extermination. Extinction.
Do not sign petitions, or moan about lack of sleep. Use these new hours of the day to explore a safe new plane of existence. Let you children play on the swings at midnight, and be thankful to those who saved us from the streetlights.