Every so often, on a quiet day at the office, the lights go out. They are on a motion sensor and if there is no movement for long enough – darkness. It is actually kind of peaceful, as the glare of the fluorescent rods finally goes to sleep.
Most often it occurs between 12 and 1 when everyone is at lunch or on Friday afternoon when everyone on the floor had simultaneous dentist appointments at the country club.
No matter when it happens, eventually someone comes in the door or stands up in their cubicle. The light returns and the moment of zen fades away and the eye-straining lights resume their assault on the huddled masses of the cube farm.
For a fleeting few moments, though, the quiet is appreciated above the humming of machines and the point in which we lack seems to be a richer, deeper place than when we possess.