The Night's Sun

Situations in my workshop and in the smaller building that houses my well and its related equipment have caused me lately to take little treks outside quite often, hours after the Sun has set, and this has made me appreciate anew how the world can be as beautiful in the depths of night as it is in the daylight. This doesn't apply to cities; at night they have too many prospects of police, criminals, and various other night people prowling about, while in the country the worst threat I've seen was once years when a sudden swirl of white at my feet turned out to be the markings of a living skunk, who later, maybe on the same night, grinned up at me when I opened my front door.

Otherwise the nights here in the woods are filled mainly with all kinds of interesting sounds, mixed with the mysterious gradations and shadings of the trees and the other features of the land. Best of all, there's the sky, with the stars, the Moon, and especially the clouds, which present an ever-changing, subtle light show.

That show, of course, happens only when the Moon is out, and it's too bad though absolutely necessary that though it is the night's Sun, the Moon, unlike the Sun, can be in a person's night sky for only about half the time, if that.

I'm grateful for the periods like recent days, because the Moon helps me to see where I'm going without the use of artificial light, and also it adds so much to the nocturnal landscapes that otherwise are visible only to creatures like house cats, who, however, ungrateful little wretches that they sometimes appear to be, never give any sign that they savor such sights.