Night

"Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree."
-- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

There's something to this, isn't there?  I think it is a sensory deprivation thing.  While roaming around the earth in the daylight, we rely on our eyesight and do not often find reason to question its authority.  In fact, should we discover reason, it is an event most disturbing.

It is a different thing altogether to be ensconced in darkness.  Eyesight is no longer as important; a greater proportion of our experience is gleaned from hearing and smell and touch, and these are probably more mysterious to us.  It's possible that Man is never more at peace than when confronted with the mysterious, a thing beyond comprehension.  There is something settling about being unsettled.  Given our lack of knowledge, this is the immutable condition.  Resolving the question changes the status quo; it requires we move on to the next thing.  I think this is the root of exploration, of conquering the mountain.

We are more receptive at night.  We are more receptive to interaction; it is a time when being alone becomes bitterly palpable.  Once the stars are out, would you rather find yourself working, or singing around a campfire?  Yes, I know; it does depend on the song.

Mysterious, revealing, restorative...this is night.  It's nice when the sun comes up, too.