The Moon and Smiling.

A change of routine was called for. The grey twilight walks were losing their appeal, and also starting to interfere with dinner time. It meant either having dinner earlier or later, or going for a complete change. I decided that now would be the right time to resume the night walks and put twilight into storage until next year (I really only like twilight between early May and early September anyway.)

It was a good decision. Being reacquainted with the spirit of the night was like meeting old friends again. Everywhere was soaked after days of rain, and so the drainage channels were in full spate and singing out their liquid baritone with great gusto in the darkness. Not that it was particularly dark, though, because Mistress Moon was almost full and lighting up the spaces between the trees. I stood and regarded her for some time, and I swear she smiled in return. Seeing her again after all those months was a real joy. It appears that Mistress Moon has become truly My Lady of the Dark Time. The trees seemed sleepy of course, as you’d expect now that the solstice has passed, but their company was still welcome. And the fields were none the worse for having been turned into a succession of small ponds.

I took my old route. I decided that trespassing on Mill Lane would be OK as long as it was dark and I wouldn’t be seen. But therein lay the difference between tonight and all those other nights last winter and spring when the fatigue problem was holding sway. Tonight I didn’t stop and turn round at the usual place; I carried on; I felt full of energy. And when I did eventually turn and come back, I still felt full of energy – all the way to my door.

And do you know what? As I was coming close to my house, I realised I was smiling an involuntary and unforeseen smile. Maybe it stemmed from that silent word of welcome that the Mistress and her entourage whispered into my ear.