Pitch dark. The term cannot encompass what it means. Upon power failure the darkness engulfs you and you can't ever get accustomed to it enough to see silouhuettes. the sky, covered as it is by clouds fails to give relief by stars, much less the moon. there being no civilization around, there is little scope of ambient light on the lawns and stretches of road connecting the buildings - engulfed in black. the term Darkness takes on a new meaning which can't be understood till seen- or rather till absolutely nothing can be seen. the garden lights when switched on (small individual bulbs as it is) cast a brave glow till the makeshift tin perimeter of the hut garden. what little escapes is swallowed by the dense vegetation - the bright green which is now pitch black - and the intermittent puddles of mud or water. light cast by cell phones and torches too get swallowed effortlessly and you concentrate on only your next step in the direction of the destination rather than the destination itself.
Every step makes a sound- a swish over greenery, a squelch through wet mud and a splash through water. pebbles there are a few, but coated with water and surrounded by grass, with blades fatter & greener than any I've seen.
As you walk the sound carries far, undistilled and clear - refusing to melt into the inviting darkness all around. Every drop of rain, every step, every sound is individual and clear.