Tonight I sat under a sky of dark delphinium blue pinpricked with bright glowing stars and traveling lavender clouds. These days I spend a lot of time sitting out on the front steps with the pup--both day and night. I have never spent much time there, but because little Louis came home from the shelter with a virus, we've had to keep the dogs separated--at least until he's better. And I'm learning new things under these conditions. Little things. It's much darker in the front yard and looks towards only woods--there, in the woods, where night truly comes alive: the frogs, the wind, the strange shadows. My small world turns to velvet and dew drops. An owl announces his place on a broken tree limb. Leaves rustle. The puppy sighs. To the north, a not-so-far-away siren splits the air.
And I realize now how much I have missed the night. Later, once the puppy falls asleep in the crook of the couch, I go out again--this time with my wolfie. We walk down dark streets and it is a long time before we turn back for home.