Lights: One On, One Off

At one time, I was a faithful watcher of the Ghost Hunters series on the Syfy (formerly Sci-Fi) Channel.  I am also a full-fledged space cadet of the can’t-remember-what-I-was-doing-thirty-seconds-ago variety.

The other day, while working alone at my cabin, these two seemingly disconnected traits merged together to (pun fully intended) haunt me.

Two incidents involving lights occurred.

First, upon arrival at the cabin in morning’s half-light, I flipped on a light in the basement as I hauled some building materials from my truck, through the basement, and up the stairs to the main floor.  This required several trips.

Okay…my cabin is two and a half levels and is more a second house more than a cabin.  So, we have that going for us.

Anyhow, I distinctly remember thinking to myself, as I passed by the switch to grab my last handful of supplies, I would leave the light on until the arrival of full daylight.

An hour later, when I stomped down the steps, I found the light off.

Had I habitually turned the light off without thinking when I returned with my last armful of building supplies?

I didn’t recall turning off the light.

At the end of the day—as is always my ritual—I circled within the cabin, locking doors and making certain all lights were off.  After double-checking the doors from the outside, I climbed into my truck to drive away.

That’s when I saw the outside light at the sliding door to the deck was on.

Important note: I was nowhere the switch for that light all day.  Nowhere near it!  Not that I recall.  And I know for certain the light was off when I arrived.

Frankly, I was a bit rattled as I opened up the cabin and trotted up the stairs to turn off the light.

One light off.  One light on.  And me without an explanation.

--Mitchell Hegman