String of Lights
At some point, electricity had been brought to the jungle. Until now, somnolent and meditative in the dark of night, with the lead tree and tigers burning bright, the forest mused. Periodic, quick scurries across the layered floor of fallen leaves, along with birds flapping and dropping seeds in the night spaces between the trees and other chattering in the branches, untold stories were carried out. The forest presided.
And, one night, a light appeared, with all the halo of a sylvan gleam, at first with the loud sound of a generator, but soon burning quietly from a more removed source.
Other lights were added, according to plan, followed by more in rows and patterns, the whole gaining mass and complexity almost like a collection of ganglia, with tendrils sent out to varying distances. Then, taking the form of a grid, brighter spots and arrays appeared according to function. The delineation of centers and purposes developed – the market, the seat of government, the park…
Original trees intermingled, here and there, in parks or lawns, along with hedgerows and new plants. Strings of lights extended even to these, across branches and trunks. Nearby lighted signs advertised a cantina, a small, dormant banking building, an ice cream shop, patiently waiting for the next day. Street lights lit the walls and window frames of the city hall, the windows dark, the hall now in recess but still cautiously presiding.
Meanwhile, in absence of the building’s primary representatives, court was held outside in the idle hours of a warm night, either featuring planned events or hosting an impromptu showing of the public, out and about.
Apart from that and a four-wheeler returning from somewhere, under a row of street lamps along a dusty outskirt, lately, the only new addition was a new marina at the water’s edge and boats with strings of lights reflecting.