Reflections from a Nighttime Walker

I am a nighttime walker.
Having never settled on a routine of Netflix at night, when my work day is done, if I'm not ready for books in bed, I'm called outside to wander.

There is something wonderful about seeing your city at dark.

When it's not deadly silent the air is filled with the sounds, smells and languages of the night folk. Gangs of teens drape themselves over their cars hooting with laughter, families play in the sand with babes not following a Western bedtime, men smoke and jibe in a round, women huddle in deep discussions, joggers jog to tunes almost audible, dog walkers nod hello, lovers in covers hide, and night heron, still as statues hope you will not notice them.

Recently I captured my local port city, Walyalup/Fremantle,
on an ice cold, lonely and beautiful night. 

Another night, when I was overfilled with work, uni, parenting and Perth's belated COVID protocols, I ventured out for a night walk along the Derbarl Yerrigan/Swan River.

Noticing my mind scampering all over the place I asked the sky what wisdom it had for me and the sky said "slow down"... ahhh I slowed my pace, slowed my breath, and took in the expanse of the river once again.
But then I wondered... does nature always say that?

Does nature always say slow down if you ask it?

So I asked the water "Water, what would you like to share with me?" and the water said "...go with the flow"
"Hmmm that's a bit cliche" I said back. The water moved on. Unphased by my critique.

So I asked the tree and it said "Don't worry. Bend and bow. Be still. You know..." and the grass said "no worries if people walk on you because you're soft, and green, and spongy" and the sand chimed in "and you can move, and shift, and get whipped around and it's all fine, in fact it's fun!"

I looked up at the moon thankfully and sighed "You are so bloody beautiful"

And as the nightly world soothed my weary mind I wandered on contently watching the blackened river lap at the shadowy shore. 

I then asked the street lamps if they had anything to say. "Light the way for anyone who comes by." And as a light bulb suddenly exploded they added "... and don't worry if your light goes out there are many lights to share the shine."
And the powerlines said "Some work never stops, and you might even get taken for granted, but you're doing important work"

The bin said "throw out the crap" and the crane said "Things take time to build" And the street signs sang in chorus "you'll never be lost, we'll show you where to go."

The witches hats said "keep away from danger" and the children's crossing said "remember your youth" and the commercial radio station said "it's never the wrong time to turn up the music and dance."

When I got home my teenager said "crank it" and so I did, and we danced to a teenage tune.

There is something delicious about the conversations we have with nature, with our world, with the universe, and with ourselves.

And I am grateful for the silent dialogue.

Happy Wandering everyone and Blessings for the Transition time...