Magic of the Night
by Becky Wilson
I step out into the darkness,
The light of the full moon sweeps across my backyard,
Creatures of the night begin to awaken,
And I am ready to become immersed in the magic of this night.
High-pitched clicks sound near my head,
I see a glimpse of small creatures, flying this way and that,
Backdropped against a black canvas peppered with distant sparkling stars.
I am thankful for the bats presence as I wave away another mosquito buzzing at my ear.
Dark clouds begin to float in, seeming to swallow the stars and even the moon,
Soon the darkness is absolute.
Yips and growls rise from the back of the cornfields,
Disjointed howls soon meshing to become one united chorus,
I listen as their song slowly begins to fade, as they move deeper into the forests beyond.
Another sound reaches my ears, a sense now heightened due to the lack of sight.
High up in the spruce trees a whistling trill begins low, notes rising, then falling,
I recognize the call of an Eastern Screech Owl,
And now there are two.
What are they saying, I wonder?
I breathe in deeply; picking up scents of freshly cut fields, rain-soaked earth and undertones of decay,
A sure sign of fall.
I quietly take my leave, not wishing to disturb the magic I experienced this night,
Whispering to the darkness,