At 6 there are cars on the roads and the sky is sometimes pink or Scarlett red
Peoples day have begun while others grab the last few days of winks in scratchers of various states of dishevel
At five the ladies stand at the bus stop and I wonder where they go when they disembark and the men in hi vis jackets stand waiting for the vans I don’t wonder so much for them. One building site is just like another.
But their numbers are sparse at 5. More scratchers are full of snores and fears of chores
The radio man whispers to me as I stroll playing songs I could never forget and half way along the tiredness falls away. My eyes open and I feel alive.
I do a bit of workday planning before I stop myself and focus on the walk. I sweep a tide of calm filled nothingness through my mind and the moon appears as the trees suddenly have leafs and the air surrounding me is felt on my skin
There is a new walkway around the town I take for the desire to prevent my heart from succumbing to the rigours of inactivity.
It’s a tunnel through trees and bushes with blackberries and fields of corn. There’s a secret passage way some teenagers have dug in to the wilderness and there’s a field of cattle. The peaceful scene of them lying in the moonlight green resonates in my mind
Through the pitch darkness I feel the morning efforts of determined spiders catch across my forehead and I imagine-their journeys along the same path I walk stretching a strand of web way beyond the 2 metres now associated in our minds with social distancing.
And it is pitch dark with the fear I should feel crawling along stretching out to touch my mind. Who is waiting in the shadows? Will someone knock me out with the one punch challenge? Will the spirits I sense in the tingle in my spine manifest themselves in a sudden light of revelation.
But I don’t feel the fear beyond the realisation that I should surely be a bit apprehensive of walking in pitch darkness in the middle of the night a little too far from civilisation .
Instead I relish those steps where I am completely alone. I can’t see the path with the darkness yet still the wonder of millennia of evolution allows my eyes to adapt just enough to make out the minuscule difference in shades of grey and black.
I would welcome the spirits I would welcome the one punch attack I would welcome the friendly hello In the darkness I would welcome the cry of an animal in need of help I welcome the darkness and it’s beautiful silence and it’s clear air and it’s purity.
Along here it doesn’t matter who I am or how I look. It doesn’t matter what people think it doesn’t matter if one eyes drifts it doesn’t matter if I’m obese it doesn’t matter if I think differently it doesn’t matter if I look like an escaped member of a difficult hospital for the demented it doesn’t matter if I earn a million a year or scrape by on free bread and berries
The darkness accepts me for being a part of the nature around me
I am part of the darkness of the ecosystem of the night as much as the spider and the sleeping fly
I turn the radio of and I listen and I hear the wonderful whispers of the nights silence as it reveals its innermost secret. That none of the human concerns matter here. All that matters is been a part of the morning moment
Frankie loving his 5 o’clock walk to work