Things That Go Ring in the Night

Video doorbells don’t always see everything

Fearless, I’m not. In fact, sometimes I’m a downright sissy. Not that I haven’t done brave things. After all, I birthed two children without so much as a Tylenol. And I’m not afraid of the dark, but sometimes I’m afraid in the dark. I don’t like things that go ring in the night. Specifically, I don’t like things that set off my video doorbell at 2 AM.

A few months ago we installed a motion-activated video doorbell. The fancy little gadget connects to an app on my phone that alerts me when someone approaches the house. With one swipe, I can check the video feed and see who’s there without going near the front door. I don’t even have to be home.

Technology isn’t foolproof

It’s funny how we obsess over a new piece of technology. A few years ago I got a fitness tracker and suddenly I was fixated on how many steps I took and how many calories I burned each day. After the doorbell went in, I caught myself spying on my empty driveway multiple times a day just because I could.

But my personal spy gizmo isn’t foolproof. One windy day the swaying branches of the boxwood near the porch set off the camera. Another time it detected one of the cats rolling in the mulch along the front walk. And an afternoon thunderstorm with horizontal rain triggered several false alarms.

I’ve grown immune to the daytime false alerts, just as I subconsciously process and dismiss other daylight sounds. The neighbor’s chainsaw as he cuts wood, the gunshots from the local gun club, the kids shrieking next door – all part of the normal soundtrack of my life.

But not at 2 AM.

Conjuring fantastical scenarios

Something happens to my brain when I try to process ordinary sounds in the deep dark of night. I know the sounds I am supposed to hear. The clank of the furnace kicking on. Ice dropping into the tray from the automatic dispenser in the freezer. The rattle of the vent that vibrates because we keep forgetting to tighten the screw. The occasional whine of the dog as he chases rabbits in his sleep.

But at 2 AM, as I lay in the dark, my imagination invents all sorts of fantastical scenarios. I wonder if thieves are sneaking up the front walk, shining their flashlights in my windows to case the joint. Maybe an escaped convict is looking for a place to hide. Or perhaps that pack of coyotes we sometimes hear yipping back in the hills has invaded my yard.

Incidentally, this is the reason I don’t watch horror movies. I get completely creeped out just by the scary music, and I hate when ax murderers jump out at me. Imagine what my brain would conjure from the neighbor’s chainsaw, the gunshots from the range and the shrieking children?

Daylight reveals the answer

But I can’t blithely dismiss a doorbell alert at 2 AM. Especially if there’s no wind. And it’s not raining. And the cats are locked in for the night. So I lay awake, afraid to move, straining to hear the least sound, until I finally drop off to sleep again.

And in the morning, my husband plays me twenty seconds of video that shows a very industrious spider building a web next to our doorbell in the middle of the night.

Why didn’t I check my phone at 2 AM? Ironically, it didn’t cross my mind. Because who wants to confront an ax murderer in the deep dark of night?

If you enjoy my ramblings, why not subscribe to my website? You’ll get an email whenever I post a new blog. Just fill out your email on the right and click “Subscribe.”