The Last One in the House

O tungsten, o tungsten, how can light-bulb filament, an eyelash-fine coil of wire evoke such loyalty and nostalgia ?
Is it the warm russet tinge it lends to a room in the evening?
Is it the soft ringing sound that tells you the bulb is dead, as you brush it past an ear ?
Is it the volatility, the sudden 'pop' as the filament breaks?
Is it the dusting of black on the inside of the glass left by the evaporated tungsten?

No wonder tungsten lovers are flocking to buy up the last of the incandescent bulbs, before we make the final switch to low-energy.

Edgelands, Journeys into England's True Wilderness by Paul Farley and Michael Symmons Roberts