Winter night walking

I've been walking my dog, Bode, at night for the past two weeks. Edmonton, where I live, is quite far north and it is dark early in the winter. I've been walking him early in the morning and then again late (for me) at night. Both times are peaceful but the energy of the neighborhood is quite different at 6:30 am than at 9:30 pm.

In the morning, there is activity. People are shoveling their walks and drives. Cars are backing out of driveways and heading out of the neighborhood, almost on automatic pilot. Lights are turning on in houses. It is still quiet but there is a humming. It is the start of day.

In the night, I am almost always the only one out. Last night, there was couple walking a large dog. Bode and he strained toward one another, but then the owners turned a corner, and Bode quickly forgot his interest in the other dog. There is a park in the middle of the neighborhood and when I go past or into it, the lyrics of "Good King Wenceslas" come to mind:

Good King Wenceslas looked out

On the feast of Stephen

When the snow lay round about

Deep and crisp and even

Brightly shone the moon that night

Though the frost was cruel...

The line from "The Night Before Christmas" also seems apt..."the moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to the objects below". When I am walking Bode and turn into the park, it is as if I have stepped back in time, back to simpler times, when snow fell and winter was harsh, but when the light of the moon and the stars provided guidance enough. I feel at peace in the park. There are evergreens silhouetted against the cerulean sky. The prints that Bode and I left from the previous nights are still visible. The shape of the moon varies from night to night. One night, it seemed the smallest sliver possible. I like seeing the changes in the night sky and I feel its importance in myth, history and our collective consciousness. Winter night walking gives me joy.