nobody's home. i always thought the phrase was poignant. it recalls dark homes of memory. houses that would be home. i think of the guys sleeping on either side of spider bridge under the walk ramps. of huts that were built once in the no-man's land by the river in the industrial zone that the city would come and destroy because homelessness is shameful and unsightly. those beautifully made little homes for the homeless destroyed by the powerful who decide these things. and how the people made camps under the freeway and the city clean-up crews periodically came with garbage trucks and swept them away. and here we have a nature sanctuary with nearly all the materials for homes removed for security and human utility, so security can see. and one little hut erected in place, that remains homeless with nobody home today because who's to tell if it's human made when it may be taken away.
i think of the phrase, the light's on, but nobody's home. in the daylight it's that dark hollow that draws my eyes like an inverted light.