Alone in the Night

Several nights ago, in between rain storms, I took Mulligan out for a walk. Interestingly enough, he doesn't find enough stimulation in watching me fold laundry while watching "Charmed" re-runs and actually wants to get out and move. Go figure. We live in a very safe neighborhood and I've never given it a second thought to go out walking in the night. The one stead-fast rule, though, for kids and grown ups alike, is: do not go into the park after dark. It's more of a common sense rule, and one that I hope follows the boys into adulthood. You know, you're in the Big City and have a choice of taking the short cut down a dark alley back to your hotel or the long route where it's well lit. Somewhere in the back of their heads they'll hear me saying, "Don't go into the park after dark", and take the long route. The park is at the end of our street. At the center of the park are the soccer fields, which are bordered at the back by ungroomed fields ripe with gophers, voles, and other creatures that burrow (great place to dig if you're a dog). In the winter, a pond forms from the rain run off and Mulligan loves to "swim" there; nevermind that it's 40 degrees. At the front are the Sycamore trees, separating the park from the street. There are basketball courts, tennis courts, and the requiste play ground equipment for the younger kids. It's a great neighborhood park and one of the reasons we purchased the house we did 8 years ago. Nonetheless, we don't go there after dark.
But this night, I didn't feel like walking. I felt like staying home in front of the fire and reading a book. But, with leash in hand, I walked Mulligan down the street figuring he could just run around in the parking lot of the park. There was plenty of light, you're next to the street, no big deal. I wasn't really breaking the rule. The sky was dark, both from the night and the clouds of the storm that was coming in. No stars, no moon, just the energy of an approaching storm. Mulligan pretends to not know the rule about staying out of the park and ventures back and forth into the darkness. I realize then that I can't see him. At all. I don't worry about this, as I know all that I have to do is call him and he'll come right back. What I find intriguing, though, is that he is not barking, there is nothing to fear in the dark. And so I go.
In my life, I have not been a big "rule breaker". I'm a Virgo; we're big on our rules. Yet there was something about the night, the energy of the storm, the way the sky looked as the clouds broke and you could see the moonlight behind them. And so I ran. Into the darkness. And in those moments the darkness opened and swallowd me whole. Without thought, I ran. There was nothing behind me ,or in front of me, or beside me. Only the darkness and the sound of my own footfalls. I know I'm failing to convey the magic of the feeling that night. Of, quite literally, being swallowed by the night. To stand inside the emptiness of the dark, to feel safe in the knowledge that no one can see you, to be surrounded by the energy of the coming rainstorm. To simply have that moment of Being.