Gotham City

After the sun falls below the horizon, the city transforms. It is in the darkness that we must be careful not to lose ourselves.

I snapped this image late one night as fog engulfed the city. It felt like I was inside a cartoon. Everything changes after the sun has set—shadows stretch longer, streetlights take on new meaning, people feel different.

My senses sharpen.

I’ve spent the better part of my career working in both daylight and dark. Whether it was the night shift on a rig or walking the streets of a random city back to my hotel, nighttime is a different world.

Call it evolution or progress, I’m not sure, but working from dark to dark feels normal now.

Only when I’m home can I truly quiet my mind and relax. Otherwise, my eyes stay open and my head stays on a swivel. It’s amazing how quickly we adapt to our environment.

The older I get—the more miles traveled and days stacked behind me—the more I appreciate the days still ahead, I eagerly anticipate my time at home.

As I wait for the sun to rise, I reflect on the nights—the quiet, the darkness, the comfort of a good night’s sleep.

I know I’m not alone on this journey.

Finding balance between nights with our pillow at home and nights away isn’t easy. I don’t question the career I chose—or better yet, the career that chose me.

I write this for those of us who travel to other cities to provide for our families. We trade time away for the comfort of giving them a home.

If absence truly makes the heart grow fonder, then let me finish this project quickly—so I can return home, even if only for a night.