Partial to the Night Sky and Attracted to Rooftops

"And if you're partial to the night sky
If you're vaguely attracted to rooftops..."

This song, especially those lines, is incredibly nostalgic for me. About 5 years ago I met this boy while I was going to school in Lakeland, Florida. We became friends and the only time we got to hang out was late at night to the early morning hours. Of course, we didn't mind that time because who sleeps at night during their early 20s?

He almost always took us to the small, quiet downtown district of the city, where we would start the night climbing over a small fence into one of the raddest playgrounds ever. There was a replica of the Eiffel Tower to climb on and "turtle shell" swings. A security camera was in place to ward off hooligans because if you got in sight of it a booming voice would say "censor." Nothing would ever happen. When we would get bored with that, we would walk towards the well-lit Lake Mirror and follow a portion of the path to the downtown strip. From here we would either wander the streets or find random benches or ledges to sit on when we got tired of walking. However, most of the time he would climb onto buildings' rooftops (lovingly called Building Climbing). Sometimes I would also be able to (I lack upper body strength in every way) and those were my favorite moments.



There's something about sitting on a rooftop. I'm not sure if it's from the adrenaline from scaling a building, or the feeling of being on top of the world. Regardless, we weren't on top of the world, or the tallest buildings in the area. But the crisp, quiet night air, the sky was always lit up (due to Florida's light pollution), you could see some stars and clouds rolling through. The sky just never ended, everything about this I loved.

It didn't end there though. I'm not afraid of heights but I am afraid of falling; for this climbing up was challenging while looking over the ledge was exciting. The traffic lights were perfectly timed and would change the glow on the buildings in a lulling rhythm. Sometimes there would be other people out walking home: usually couples sharing quiet kisses, other times I'd see drunks stumbling from one of the few bars and finally there was almost always a group of skateboarders trying to perfect their latest trick. From here on top of the world I could see all kinds of people walking through a monotonous small downtown of a city that rarely changes. I could never stop smiling.

My favorite building to sit upon happened to be the easiest one, having stairs leading to a smoking patio of the Electric Company offices. But you did have to climb over a railing to sit on the wide ledge. From here we had a view of the lights spread out around Lake Mirror, dancing upon the still water directly in front of us. To our left, the rhythmic traffic lights of downtown. To our right, a small beautiful garden that would always play classical music, but it closed at dusk. We wouldn't dare to venture in there at night because the security system was tight. Here on this ledge we would sit. We usually talked about our week or share past stories and experiences. Other times we would sit in a comfortable silence lost in our own thoughts.

I never wanted those moments to end but I knew they would when he graduated and I was moving to West Virginia. I'll always cherish those moments because for some reason sitting on a balcony overlooking the town in the valley below me doesn't compare to sitting on a rooftop.