All images above photographed on Friday October 5, 2012.
Sunday night I stayed late once again to observe the much hated rats in Central Park.
Most people left early so I delighted in the peaceful atmosphere and setup myself to an evening watching my little brothers and sisters as they came out of their homes to forage.
I crouched low to the ground to photograph them at eye level--perhaps to remind myself that I am not above them regardless how present day society classifies them.
One at a time they came out of their humble homes to seek out the peanuts I placed for them. I watched them slowly emerge through the short wire fence and pushed through the dry leaves which had collected in their path. As they entered into the beams of white light from the small lamps I positioned for this purpose their fur became radiant, making them appear like little princes and princesses stepping onto a balcony bathed in moonlight.
Their whiskers too were enhanced in the bright light as the little innocent creatures picked up the peanuts thrilled of their good fortune but cautious enough to run back to safety to enjoy them in a darker more secure place.
I wondered why I was seeing so much beauty in something that so many other people saw ugliness. Then I realized that beauty can be seen in anything, depending on the kind of light you cast before your eyes when you look.
While I stood crouched on the ground I thought briefly for a moment or two of whether it was sane or not on my part to be engaged in such an activity as I was doing in the darkening night.
“Here comes another one...” So involved I was in looking out for my next visitor I barely noticed that a group of people were watching along behind me.
I looked back and received several smiles from faces crouched quietly in the cool evening.
Gradually I was alone again and waited for my little fellow planet inhabitants to make their appearance.
I saw a star or two twinkle between the tall trees around us and wondered if those heavenly glows only landed on my eyes and not on the little bright black eyes of those little creatures tip-toeing through the leaves. If there was any doubt in my mind on this matter, it would be that their eyes may indeed see the light from the stars quite differently than our eyes do, in such a way that the stars may me guiding my little friends to live much more wholesome lives than we live because we just don’t see, or refuse to see, the light as they do.
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