When I was a kid I used to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night. The basement room had a window right out into the garden. I could push a chair up against the inside and climb up to ground level, my face and hands in dirt. It was so quiet at night. It was quieter outside than in my house, I remember. I used to sit on the front steps and watch the street light right at the end of the driveway flicker. I was sure it was a message just for me. The first time I noticed that it flickered was the day I came home and the sky was orange. There were huge forest fires in Quebec. Everything seemed alien and new, and I felt like everything was about to change. I stood at the end of my driveway and watched the street light flicker, trying to open my mind, trying to hear the message in my brain before I had to go inside and hear that everything was fine.