All around me is a deep profound stillness as the sun sets.
All of nature holds her breath as our star moves beneath the horizon.There is a respect for the day departing, and a welcome for the arrival of the night.
This suspension of time, this pregnant moment of transition is always honoured.
A moment of gratitude and of farewell.
On the edge of the senses are the first stirrings of the night walkers.
Genets, wolves, and bats begin to wake within their caves and the dark hidden places of the mountain.
Another world comes to life.
One in which our modern sensibilities rarely participate.
There is a great beauty in this time without colour – lit only with the silver of the moon and stars.
Viewed through the Gothic lens of our Victorian legacy, the night has become something to fear, a time to shut ourselves away.
Yet in truth, this is a rich time when the supernatural becomes just the natural.
This is when the old magic is present and the ineffable spark that animates life becomes visible. This spark manifests as the spirit of the trees and night animals as they shapeshift their way across this landscape.
The ecology of the night is when the impossible becomes possible and the ancestors walk hand in hand with the present.
The time of the Moon and Venus – the time of the sacred feminine. All, now sadly lost under the glare of streetlights and the static of our modern devices.
This is why you will find me sitting atop mountains at dusk, far far away from the modern world.