Are all mammals hard-wired to be fascinated by little dancing lights in the darkness, or is it just humans? I know these studies exist to verify what we know instinctively is true, that we evolved to want to notice and stare at flashing lights of different colors but I am too lazy to look them up. I think about this a lot though, about the early hominids in their small family or tribal bands, eyes attuned to all sorts of tiny sparks, like the flash of colors on the retinas of big cats on the Savanna, catching the reflected light of the moon. Were they particularly cautious of the sparks that popped and drifted away from their campfires, once they started gathering around them? Were fireflies indicators of anything useful or dangerous, in the terrain or environment? Is it all lights or certain colors of them?
What is it that is so compelling, so primal about watching little lights flicker and dance? I can't look away from them. I know you can't either. It's build into us. Don't believe me that it's impossible? Try walking into a place where a TV is playing, on something you absolutely hate -- like a really annoying kid show in a dentist's waiting room. You can't ignore it completely, even when you want to. That flickering light box sucks us in, at least once every few minutes. This is why cop cars have swirling lights, and we actually notice them in the rear view mirror, even when we are totally absorbed in our need to get wherever we are going as quickly as possible. This is why railroad tracks and blind curves have blinking lights. And this is why TV screens are every-freaking-where, especially dangling from the ceiling in WalMarts, trying to sell you more crap you don't need, just because you made the mistake of walking in the door, thinking this was the one place you knew you could find the one item you needed at midnight.
It is this elemental need to watch fairy lights in the darkness that is my favorite part of winter. I tried to get decent pictures of the Boulder Star on the way to and from Central City tonight. The in-motion pictures were horrible, so I requested a stop on the way home to find some vantage point where I could get out of the car and try again. We settled on the street next to the old graveyard on University Hill, and I did what I could to take a good picture standing in the dark next to graves on a cold night by myself. (I am fairly certain this was the closest I've been to the Star when it was lit up, unlike some people I know who have hiked up and even interfered with where the lights were placed.) I kept pausing next to the Christmas trees all over the casino tonight, even the silly one that was only a cone of light strings. We pulled over next to a park in Blackhawk (so the Mr could check something on his tablet), and I was dorky and took pictures of that display too. And if I'm honest with myself, watching the flashing lights on the penny slots at the casino is the reason I keep going up there. It's not the money, because even when I come back with a little extra cash, it isn't life-altering. It's the lights and noise in the darkness. That's why I go.
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