Earth hour: The lost 60 mins
It isn't really that dark.
Lights from the street lamps seem to hurt my eyes, and so does the glare of the bright spotlights in the distant construction yards. Many hotel rooms still remain bright, occupied by tourists oblivious to the events unfolding in the park downstairs. Given we have no idea how the scene is playing out across the island, or the world for that matter, this could really be the last stronghold of mankind, the little dark project in the midst of human ignorance - the black spot that tried.
The air is filled with smoke. Some candles, some cigarettes - continuing to release their little puffs of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, now ironically in the name of earth-saving. Teenagers sit on the grass and play with fire, dipping their fingers into their little flames and intentionally setting fire to paper cups and plastic bags. The younger children stand around and watch, their scheming little minds already plotting ahead to the day they get hold of a lighter and candles of their own. In the mean time, they just stand and stare, silently thanking their mums and dads for bringing them to this fire-fun-fest in the dark.
And the music goes on - songs of peace, humanity and reflection. Electricity still runs the speakers, no doubt using up thousands of watts for the listening pleasure of the numerous people sitting the grass - most not really even paying attention. The mini-concert goes on in the dark and the musicians try their best to inspire and spread their message of love for the earth.
When the lights come back on, we're left staring at each other in the artificial luminance. All white and unnatural, the soft darkness and magic of the hour evaporated. And the crowd dispersed, back to their cars. Parents load their children into their MPVs, SUVs, sports sedans and zoom back home in their air-conditioned cocoons.
If the message gets across, then it is a job well done. If not, it's a lot of effort and carbon to save the earth from 60 minutes of human punishment.
Lights from the street lamps seem to hurt my eyes, and so does the glare of the bright spotlights in the distant construction yards. Many hotel rooms still remain bright, occupied by tourists oblivious to the events unfolding in the park downstairs. Given we have no idea how the scene is playing out across the island, or the world for that matter, this could really be the last stronghold of mankind, the little dark project in the midst of human ignorance - the black spot that tried.
The air is filled with smoke. Some candles, some cigarettes - continuing to release their little puffs of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, now ironically in the name of earth-saving. Teenagers sit on the grass and play with fire, dipping their fingers into their little flames and intentionally setting fire to paper cups and plastic bags. The younger children stand around and watch, their scheming little minds already plotting ahead to the day they get hold of a lighter and candles of their own. In the mean time, they just stand and stare, silently thanking their mums and dads for bringing them to this fire-fun-fest in the dark.
And the music goes on - songs of peace, humanity and reflection. Electricity still runs the speakers, no doubt using up thousands of watts for the listening pleasure of the numerous people sitting the grass - most not really even paying attention. The mini-concert goes on in the dark and the musicians try their best to inspire and spread their message of love for the earth.
When the lights come back on, we're left staring at each other in the artificial luminance. All white and unnatural, the soft darkness and magic of the hour evaporated. And the crowd dispersed, back to their cars. Parents load their children into their MPVs, SUVs, sports sedans and zoom back home in their air-conditioned cocoons.
If the message gets across, then it is a job well done. If not, it's a lot of effort and carbon to save the earth from 60 minutes of human punishment.