I went on a night walk last night. It's kind of thrilling, walking through the countryside at night time. Anything could happen. I was reasonably sure it would be safe - the village I live in is not exactly a hotbed of crime and the only other types of people who'd walk through the surrounding fields in the middle of the night are probably just a bit weird... rather than... er... dangerous... yes... point taken.
So I grabbed a torch, slipped on my boots and went walking.
There is such a quiet natural beauty about the night. At first, everything seems very still and deathly quiet. The clouds hang suspended in the air, the trees are frozen white and solid by the torch-beam and the world is silent.
Then after a while, you realise that it's not silent at all - far from it. I switched off my torch and listened. Something rustled in the bushes, a gust of wind rippled through the trees, the crickets were clicking in the hedgerow and a night bird called through the distance.
I love the way your eyes try to adjust too. Everything is sort of unknown and unobservable. I could see the white lines in the middle of Deadman's Lane, the high hedges which reminded me of Devon and the outline of the trees, silhouetted against the stars. That was all there was to see.
In the dark, all you've got is the step in front of you. You don't get to see the next one until you take it.
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