This lecture delves into the nightly worlds of farmers and herders in South Lebanon, whose agrarian practices have transformed in the aftermath of a decades-long occupation and persistent Israeli violations. Refusing to mourn their stolen night, they have instead reimagined its wreckage—turning surveillance drones into guiding stars, white phosphorus into White locusts, and conjuring from their severed phantom limbs true ghosts to guard their kin. These are not comforting accounts, but expressions of how communities deemed peripheral to the bright centers of power make worlds amid the entanglement of colonial aggression and ecological ruin. To understand these worlds is to recognize the night as a cumulative site of cultural production, where history and intelligence gather through the creative labor of those who, under systems of surveillance and extraction, have stretched it into a malleable space, with its very own mandates and measures, not just a time. After all, viewing the night solely as a suspension of daylight ignores its potential to incubate forms of life and thought that thrive precisely because they operate outside the frameworks of illumination and visibility.