The Midnight Smoker

My brother and his wife, along with their three children under three, are visiting us this week. When they come, smoking within the walls of our old Ranch House ceases and desists...

There have been times when this has been problematic for me, but for some reason, tonight, I am completely at peace with not smoking within the confines of my home.

Night time at The Ranch, outdoors, is very peaceful. The yard light is working, so I can look out at the glory that is the barn. I can commune with God in the late hours of the night, just me, my trusty cigarette, and God, reflecting on the day's happenings.

The silence of the night in the country is somewhat overwhelming, and one of the main reasons I've moved back here. I love going outside at night and not hearing people walking and horns blowing and sirens wailing.

Usually when I post on my blog, I am mid cigarette, mid puff when I think of something to say. But not tonight. Tonight I am free of my addiction, if only for a few hours, and I plan on savouring those moments outdoors.

There have been countless songs written about smokers late at night: The Gambler, by Kenny Rogers, of course, and then Gary Allan's Smoke Rings in the Dark immediately come to mind.

Except, of course, that I couldn't blow a smoke ring to save my soul.

Regardless, I love the sounds of nothing (except Dixie hunting her latest prey off in the distance) and looking out over the expanse of nothingness that to most, appears to be nothingness, but to me?

Is the whole wide world.