Our need for survival, we’ll accept any terms. Our need to get somewhere else. Our need for sustenance, never to be underestimated. Our need for company tempts even the hermit. Our need for shelter may occupy every waking moment. Some don’t have time, or the luxury, to sit back and enjoy the night lights, lights that indicate our needs. Big office windows glow fluorescent in towers. Bus lights sparkle as it turns a corner into darkness. Supermarkets blaze inside broody carparks. I see a hillside of kitchen windows and, from the Warringal embankment, Melbourne’s orange swathe of a cold July.