The view from the apartment I had in Carlsbad. When I couldn't, or didn't want to sleep, I would sit in my recliner chair, look outside and think.
It still intrigues me, the way night is so static. The room on the upper right always had the light on, but I never saw anyone. During the day, even if there is no human activity, the light changes as the sun crosses the sky, birds fly by. But at night, 10:30 looks like 2:00 looks like 4:48.
In the window at the lower right, every night about eight, a fairly attractive lady would walk in and disrobe to get ready for her shower. The light was always off later, but I left it on in the picture, hoping she would do an encore. 1991