Night Moves

I have always enjoyed dawn and twilight. The first light of the morning and the last light of the evening always seem so special to me. The Great Blue Heron flies out of the pond headed toward the east pasture. The bats begin to fly around the night light out in the yard. The armadillos begin their nightly assault on our garden and yard. The last rays of sunshine reflect off of the pond. Around our place, we've been watching moonrise a little bit after 9pm. Since I've only been back from the city for a week, I've been catching up on observing the night moves around our place. It's like when the curtain goes down between acts in a play. The horse herd moves along their trails to graze in the west pasture. The frog's, cricket's and owl's voices fill the darkness. You can hear the night birds call out. The whippoorwill and the dove serenade me. The cows that graze on the surrounding government land make noises that seem like something out of a horror movie and are so un-bovine like. In the distance the coyotes howl and laugh as they try to locate each other throughout the floor of "our" valley and the mountain ridges out back of the house. Here everything makes sense to me. Everything is as it should be. Everyone is doing what they were meant to do when it was meant to be done. The natural rhythm of things goes unchanged and unchallenged by the human race.