Summer is very unwilling to depart, but autumn can be seen in that the sun is setting at around 5.30 p.m. whereas in the height of summer it set after 7.30 p.m.

As I finish a long day of satisfying work, I head for the car and quickly drive off with the good feeling of having had a full day and in anticipation of seeing my family. I drive off with the cool breeze in my face, very happy to be about after dark in this relatively safe neighbourhood where the street lights are always bright, and people are always about at this time of the evening.

There is a checkpoint before the bridge; around fifty cars are waiting to pass. We wait impatiently and as my turn comes I pass through it very slowly, and then speed off.

The bridge has bright lights, too – but only the first half. As I get closer to the last light pole, the good feeling starts to slip as I enter the region of darkness. Such darkness! All checkpoint soldiers demand that we turn off the lights of the car as we approach the checkpoints so we don't dazzle their eyes – but I can't. Coming down from the bridge on the very narrow, barrierless curving incline - without lights is not something I relish – So I keep the second lights on up to the checkpoint and talk my way out of trouble.

So dark – Such contrast to the other side of the river. I hurry home.

Driving along I start betting with myself: Will the lights be on in our street? Will I see the beautiful long street with willowy trees bathed in light? Or will I see pitch dark, and be asked to turn off my car lights on top of it? I never turn them off! Not the second lights, anyway. And have - so far been able to talk myself out of trouble.