The part we normally don't look at. Or if looked at, hardly see. Much of the world we live in becomes invisible to us. We look through the wires to see the dying light, but fail almost entirely to see the poles and and all the paraphernalia that go with them. We adjust the world to give our senses what they want, what they look for, what they need — a world without uglines and distraction. And the longer we look, the less we see. Was there ever a time when such wires pleased our senses? Was the manufactured skyline ever as beautiful as the one we see? "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind," said Shakespeare through Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream. But the following line tells us something crucial that is almost never considered. "And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." We blind ourselves to ugliness, so the mind can see what it wants to see, what we want to see. In this case, the last beautiful light of evening.