I can imagine the wasteland would be dark. And I mean REALLY dark. No light pollution, no towns, a vast empty expanse long beyond the point where campfires and torchlights would flicker. The most you’d get on moonless nights is the silhouette of broken cliffs and hills rising against the greyed backdrop of stars.
And in this black emptiness of night, you hear something moving nearby.
Against your better knowledge, you turn on your Pip-boy light, a light that lets you see but flashes your presence up like a flare.
But that’s now the least of your worries.