Eternal is this thing called night .......

An essay about my friend .... the night !

August and muggy is the unforgiving night air , enough so that everything I touch seems to stick to me , just about humid enough so that you can feel the electrical charge of violent electrical particles in the dark air . As if perhaps once the thunder finally relinquishes the rain it will bring the relief I await . In the dark and windy night the heat lightening echoes of the only hope there is as I walk along the railroad bed by the river ......The humid mists of the river have begun to rise off the surface of the water , enough so that it makes the air only all that much heavier ..

The heat of august nights always did keep me awake , as I scent the creosote from the day's sun heating of the railroad ties , I realize that the heat draws out every bit of moisture there is within anything , each and every aroma I pass through as I walk along sends a message to my senses in recognition , cedar trees along the river bank where the whitewater riffles slowly against the streams edge , twirling , swirling slowly around the little eddy's in the calm sections , the white foamy streams of bubbles that accompanies the rivers surface meanders along at slow speed .

I stop at the railroad trestle and look down at the waters edge , and decide to go down along the edge of sand and mist . I know that there is an ancient pathway here that follows the waters edge , probably fishermen making there way in springtime to some of the deeper pools in the river . I have never understood peoples fear of the dark or of the night , there is such peace and a timeless tranquility there . But then , I do understand completely what one has to do to "let go " of time and the unforgiving hold that the hours have on our minds.

Since before I was a teenager , I think I learned to seek solace in places rather than in people , in nature rather than in nurture , whenever some of the trials of life would overload my heart , my emotions or my mind , I found that losing myself in the outdoors was one way of calming the ruckus , so to speak . In fact , in the immature longings of a young mind , I began at a young age to actually fantasize about finding my soul mate out here . But then soul mates , as we all know , may or may never be found anywhere .

But the night , the night....... is more forgiving to us and maybe even in Gods greatest of plans , he knew that . Didn't he know that the incessant heat of the sun reflected off from the surface of the moon was going to lose its burning touch to our flesh ? Didn't he plan the utter and absolute tranquility of silence unbroken...... except for the caress of only the softest sounds afforded in the night , the backgrounds of whitewater river noises , a few nocturnal animals or the shushing of soft winds in the age old language of softly speaking pine bows .

I believe that there are plans for us way , way beyond our understanding here ! As I stand here on the rusted iron I - beams of an abandoned railroad bridge watching , the clouds suddenly move asside allowing the moonlight to emerge for a moment or for an hour , or for even the rest of the night to dance softly on the riffles of moving water below , around the grey stones pertruding from the surface of the river and sending slivers of silver light back towards the sky , I imagine them going on into the night air to reflect on the bottoms of the grew passing clouds .

And so , I started out writing this as fiction , I mean ......, I could have put a lonely woman sitting at the edge of the sandy beach with her feet in the cool yet soothing water , I could have dressed her anyway that I wanted , or given her the pure beauty of gods natural nudity .I could have made her my ultimate destination , or me hers , it could have been an instant love or intense lust , of flesh and water and warmth , or the slow magical and meaningful embrace of sensuous orgasm beneath the hidden dark surface of the eternal river , I could end this story with anything happening or with nothing happening , such is the pleasure of the writer .

But No ! I won't spoil this memory of walking off into the serene dark of this moonlit sojourn, probably one of the greatest gifts our god has allowed us . Nature !. You know , one thing about it though , when I walked out into the night , I never make it to the dawn ! I would , most often , merely find myself at the end of a path , tired , serene and satisfied that yes ! Yes, I have taken the gift that was offered , I have accepted something that most people seem to have refused , serenity , peace and acceptance of life , and of living it just the way it is !

Come my friend ....walk with me .

Comments 4 comments

web923 profile image

web923 4 years ago from Twentynine Palms, California

Very well done with great imagery. I love your choice of words; the whole thing flows magnificently!

Ericdierker profile image

Ericdierker 4 years ago from Spring Valley, CA. U.S.A.

Could you please come and pick me up down under the trestle, I cannot leave on my own.

ahorseback profile image

ahorseback 4 years ago Author

Web ! Thank you kind sir ! Ed

ahorseback profile image

ahorseback 4 years ago Author

Eric , Come on up , I'll show you the river !.....:-}

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