I love lamps. Don’t really like overhead lights unless they’re on a dimmer. The lamp is closer. It’s even with me. It’s in my space and nothing more. It creates my space. There’s an intimacy about it. It speaks peace. Stillness. Sometimes I will leave a lamp on for several days. Doesn’t need to be. But I like it. A surety. A reminder of home. It was on while I slept at night. It was on while I was away. It’s on when it’s bright and sunny. When it’s cold. Dark. Rain. It’s on. It stays on. I can see a lamp in the house across the creek. It’s somebody’s home. Their space. What they do. Who they are. A reminder of tranquil life nearby. A peaceful moment for the onlooker.