By day and by night.
The same exact place with two totally different moods and feels to them. Painted by the moon or with the waxing and waning light of day, the place remains the same. The mood, however, is completely different.
This field near our home is owned by a local horse farm. We’re grateful for this, as they use the field for hay to feed the horses–meaning it is unlikely, in the near future, that there will be any construction on the property. A few mornings ago, I was up at my usual ungodly hour and was privileged to watch a mother deer and her young fawn playing in the field. The fawn, no larger than my greyhound, was running like a banshee through the field. Mother would dip her head down, much like a puppy “play bowing”, and enough to entice the little one to race and race and race around, only to return for more encouragement from mom. I think, like any new mom, she was hoping to wear the youngster out. A feeding and a nap were surely in the morning’s future.
In the light of day, a playground for the wild life. But what about the night? The moonlight is beautiful. But only the outline of the trees remain, illuminated as well by the small light affixed atop the neighbors home. Who watches after the baby fawn, in the dark of the night. Coyotes are yipping. I worry and fret.
Nature, as my husband reminds, is neither kind nor cruel. It is merely indifferent.
I don’t really like it when he tells me that, by the way–but I know it to be true. And I hope. Because it is the hope I possess that keeps my fears, logical or not, from simply overriding me. If you have a chance to stroll out into the moonlight tonight, by all means, do. Have a little dance.
Keep a little hope in your heart.