Around 8:30 this evening I rolled into the driveway after a long – but good – day in the city. When I put my car into park, it slid a bit. So I moved it forward and tried again. A bit more skidding. I moved it to the flattest spot on my skating rink I call a driveway, then, satisfied it wasn’t going to roll into the pond, I closed it up.
When I got out of the car, I was stunned by the beauty of what I walked into: a full moon bathing snowy fields and bare trees in a brilliant light that even Hollywood couldn’t replicate. Then my dogs slipped and slid their way over to greet me and we made our way inside. I fed them but didn’t take my coat off. I was longing to walk in that moonlight, but the ice that we’ve been dealing with after a recent thaw doesn’t make it terribly appealing.
But when the dogs finished their dinner, I just couldn’t resist and decided to take that icy walk in the moonlight, though it occurred to me for a brief moment that if I had a football helmet, this might be a good time to stick it on.
So the dogs and I headed out. Slowly. As I headed up my long lane way, I took small, deliberate steps, creeping along the subtle trail of gravel that was left by the sand truck last week but had become covered in several days worth of water and ice. I was in constant awe of how bright this tiny little corner of the world was so many hours after sunset. These goregous moonlit winter nights really make magic out of these otherwise dark and cold months.
I stopped in the maple grove a little ways down the lane, surrounded by hundreds of bare trees that seemed to dance in the moonlight. I felt like I was being hugged by life. The dogs had run up ahead of me, probably as happy as I was. And then I heard it – the happy yips and howls of the neighbourhood coyotes. Does it get any better than that? Standing among trees on a moonlit winter night being serenaded by coyotes? My dogs had stopped to listen as well and then promptly ran back to me (without my saying a thing to them) and stood right by me – Bubba leaning against me; my protector. Kokwa, though she loves me fiercely, has wimpier intentions and she clearly just wanted to head home. So after listening to the singing coyotes and then the response from a different pack in another direction, the dogs and I slowly and carefully made our way back to the house.
I almost didn’t go for that walk tonight because of how the ice can make me feel so vulnerable, which is frankly, not a very comfortable feeling. But I am so glad I didn’t let that stop me, especially since I had to walk slowly, with intention, and by doing so, I was able to enjoy this special evening in a way that I might not have enjoyed had I been able to stroll along like I usually do.
Now I just have to make sure this isn’t the only (precarious) moonlit walk of the season.