Night Walks / Song On Low
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"The cadence rolls in broken
Plays it over and then goes
One flight down
There's a song on low
And it's been there, playing all along
Now you know
Now you know"
- One Flight Down, by Norah Jones
I enjoy night walks. It's peaceful with just an edge of danger, a whisper of something daring. It was early in the shelter in place from Covid-19 when I went for a night walk down to the edge of Town Lake, which is less than half a mile from my apartment. The moon was full, illuminating the sky like a welcoming friend. On the trail, the gravel crunched beneath my shoes. It wasn't terribly late, so a smattering of other walkers and runners were out as well, enjoying the cool night air. I sunk my hands into the pockets of my light jacket, which held my phone and keys.
There's a couple of small wharfs which are launch pads for kayaks and canoes and paddle boards. I went to the edge of one and sat down cross-legged beside the water. Skyscrapers rose in the distance, the city lights gleaming in the dark. I sat there for some time, feeling connected to all of it; the calm water, the twinkling lights, and the peaceful stillness of the night.
Home again, I wrote the following poem, more bold than my simple, quiet night walk had been, yet capturing the wilder side of braving the darkness. I always feel a bit more wild when there's a full moon. Even peaceful, there's something stirring, some possibilities which are made more enticing and available when the moon is at her peak. I've always felt that way. On that night, I'd been sequestered in my apartment for a couple of weeks, so the simple walk felt more striking than normal. Or maybe it was just more needed.
There's a couple of small wharfs which are launch pads for kayaks and canoes and paddle boards. I went to the edge of one and sat down cross-legged beside the water. Skyscrapers rose in the distance, the city lights gleaming in the dark. I sat there for some time, feeling connected to all of it; the calm water, the twinkling lights, and the peaceful stillness of the night.
Home again, I wrote the following poem, more bold than my simple, quiet night walk had been, yet capturing the wilder side of braving the darkness. I always feel a bit more wild when there's a full moon. Even peaceful, there's something stirring, some possibilities which are made more enticing and available when the moon is at her peak. I've always felt that way. On that night, I'd been sequestered in my apartment for a couple of weeks, so the simple walk felt more striking than normal. Or maybe it was just more needed.
Dark has fallen
And I am itching
To go out into the night
To be bewitching
(Nocturnal garb, eyes bright)
As all the stars
Begin appearing
Fair haven of their sky
Faintly I’m hearing
Sweet siren’s call (come by)
Barefoot I’d run
Yet poise protests, so
I slip into my shoes
Mistress moon, you know
I’d howl for you (my muse)
Sing lovely, low
Be your responder
With silver dreams entwine
Boldly I wander
(Claiming this night as mine)
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