We’re two hours into the first round of speeches, and the scene is already quite different from this time last night. There are more people in the hall, for one, and they’re generally more attentive to the speakers than at this time yesterday.

There’s also a different energy in the hall tonight, both in quality and in volume. Everything is simply a bit more “amped” … the conversation a bit more loud, the press a bit more hungry (if they’re chasing other stories in the same fashion their chasing the Bloggers in The Roost), they eyes of the crowd a bit more wide. Security, too, is more keyed-up: They deployed earlier in the day and have been more rigorous about where you stand and go than yesterday.

It is, in the end, a qualitative matter, and I suppose I’m struggling for words. But the sense one has being here is a sense of not just of building energy and anticipation, but of a building eagerness … almost a fever. The people here know that tonight they will see It. It might be their political hero, it might be their opportunity for political victory, it might be their window for policy change. Or, it might simply be history.

But they all expect to see it, and they all know it’s just around the corner. Like kids eagerly awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus, they’re awake with a nervous, excited, and building tension … except here there’s no bedtime, and they get to sit around the fireplace and watch him arrive.