Hike Beneath the Full Moon
I approach your house wishing I had a small canoe instead of a car. The street is wet from a burst fire hydrant on the corner, and a miniature turbulence rushes past outside my window. Someone has backed into the hydrant, and no one has arrived yet to stop the torrent.You meet me at your door and we walk together, watching water shoot twenty feet into the air.
I hold open the car door and you step inside.
Soon we are driving through town, then onto the freeway. As we talk evening swallows the sun, painting the sky with a luminescent brush. Your face glows orange in the light.
You're so beautiful, I want to say, but stop myself. You probably hear that all the time, and I don't want to be one of many.
I take the Alhambra exit off the freeway and turn right. We're on Reliez Valley Road now, and a dark canopy of trees looms over either side of the street. I'm driving slowly now; deer frequent this area.
We pass a tree farm before arriving at the end of the road. I turn right, then left. The narrow road wraps around the hill, winding its way past moss and trees whose roots gnarl in the moist, red soil. Several times vehicles approach us as they journey down the road, and we inch past them, sharing the limited space.
Finally we reach the parking lot. We bring only our canteen and a blanket. We want to walk beneath the stars unencumbered. I help you into your parka and put on my jacket.
Let's go! I say.
By now the first stars are bright blurs in the dusky sky. We begin to walk. A chill creeps upon us as the smell of warmth dissolves into the night, tingling our flesh and our senses.
We decide to hike off the trail and bed down in a clearing. You spread the blanket, pressing down soft, tall grasses to cradle us. Then we lie down, face-to-face with the moon.
Her full face is low and large in the sky. A horned owl glides over us, whispering out the moon with its great wings. We turn to each other with surprised smiles, then turn again to face the night.
Lunar light bathing my face, contemplation swallows me. Beneath the moon I am small; I am a cricket gazing at something I cannot begin to fathom; I am one of a trillion souls blinking out in the darkness; and yet, at the same time, I feel I am the heart of the universe.
Finally we turn toward each other and toward conversation. For hours we talk. And as we share our dreams and fears, entwining our minds, our hands creep toward each other, and our fingers entwine also. The night is a part of us; we are in its claim with the owls, and the foxes, and the crickets moaning their creaky violins.
Dew begins to condense on our blanket and in our hair, and we realize it is time to leave.
Refreshed by the spirit of the night we pick up ourselves and our blanket and begin our journey back to the car.
This has been a special night for me. I'd love to see you again, I tell you.
You say:
I feel the same. I'll call you soon.
I had a great time, but I think we should just be friends.
You checked out my chest when you thought I wasn't looking! What kind of creep are you?