The trail at night

I hadn't been down the trail yet this semester; not that way, the way not into Purcellville. But Megan and I went down there after dinner.

It was quite dark. The moon wasn't up yet, and the stars were out, somewhat. The traffic headlights were more annoying than helpful. First they blinded you, then they deserted you. It was better once we got away from the road.

The night was amazingly warm for November. It felt rather like Bandelier canyon, in New Mexico, in that there would be warmer puffs of air and then cooler puffs. Sometimes your face would be warm and your fingers cold.

We walked as far as the first bridge. We could see the funny landform off to the north, the one in the middle of a field, the one that looks like a muffin-top covered with trees. I couldn't hear or see the stream under the bridge, so I don't know if there was water in it or not. I could smell the water-scent, though. Somewhere near there, things were wet and living.

On the way back, there was a beautiful section where the trees were darkly silhouetted against a purple-gray sky with white pinpricks through it. The sky was not a deep or clear color, just dark. Sometimes night skies look velvety. This one looked like a very low-contrast photo, all dusty. And yet, it too was beautiful.

When we passed the line of trees and looked back at them, they were illuminated by the subdivision lights into the exact shade of gray as the sky, and tree and sky blended together.