Night shift
No signal out here.
No hum from a city you forgot was always there.
Stars through gaps in the branches. Quiet and countless.
Fire crackle. Someone laughing a few campsites over.
Darkness used to mean danger.
Now it's the only place left without ads.
The trees don't ask for anything.
The sky doesn't refresh.
Nothing out here is competing for you.
We wait for the right time to slow down.
Book the trip when things settle. Switch off when we've earned it.
But the quiet doesn't schedule itself.
You have to go find it.
Pack a bag. Sleep under something older than your problems.
Let the night do what screens never could.
The quiet doesn't schedule itself. Pack a bag, sleep under the stars, and let the night do what screens never could.