Slow falls the hand of sleep, as I lie wrapped in the warmth of wings that shall fly no more. In the void between the transition to nightly oblivion comes softly the wonder of the path that leads my life here this night.

Here in the fastness of night, the wind howls down from the hills and enters the room carrying the scents of a nocturnal world. I smell the owl and the fox and the warmth of the rich, moist earth at the badger’s set. It sirs within and I must rise for they call me.

The view out the window is quite bright from the full moon. Would it be ridiculous to get dressed and go off exploring by the light of the moon? Following silvered paths under tall black branches that shiver and exhale with the breeze to stumble into secret places.

As a child one hears stories of fairies and the night reverberates the stories around my mind and whispers that sometimes there is a kind of magic we can touch. I feel that if I walked long and quiet enough through the drifts of leaves I would eventually witness that magic. Be it a fairy gathering or a wonder of nature’s nocturnal creatures. One night soon I shall take this walk into the moonlit night but not just yet.

For throughout all this I sense you and know you would come with me on this adventure and I wait for you to arrive. For though I no longer believe in fairies I have always believed in someone like you.