The wind howls as the night devours the land. Shadows creep with each tick of a clock’s hand.
The day’s animals grow tired, cozying up in their warm beds, while other creatures of the night, like yourself, arise in delight with the sound of the wind.
Eyes like glowing balls of curiosity and opportunity peek from bushes and logs and dark crevices. The time has come for hunting and gathering under the faint light of the moon or along the reflective moon’s path on the water.
Others prefer a light-less night to their advantage, with the only specks of light from fireflies, dancing in unpredictable paths around the forest floor and some up toward the canopy. One flash in the right, or wrong, place could spell danger for the hunter, or the hunted.
Stay low…stay still…stay quiet.
Until…pounce, tumble, gnash, and gnarl. The hunt is over for some-a slight miss for others. A lucky break for the prey, or unlucky if tonight is his last.
Dinner, or is it breakfast, is served.
It’s off to find a mate. Look at me. I am fierce and full of life.
Then it’s off to find a source of water after the meal.
Maybe the hunt is for the babies in the den or up in the tree. This night is for them, not so much for me.
A quick dip in the river or through the falling water, cleans and cools on a sweltering night-warms and cleans on others, when the water’s warmth can be seen escaping in the chilly air.
If it’s river-creatures you seek, here lies a bed of snacks-if you can catch one.
When your den of cubs is a hungry bunch, you have to go it again, maybe for yourself this time. A mother doesn’t have much strength if she can’t also feed herself.
Besides the filling of the tummy, you are a fierce survivor and your steps demand a certain kind of respect in this circle of life you live in. Your every night and waking hour is missioned on living and preserving of your precious species-as is for the next hunter or hunted, and the next…in this grand forest of diversity.
The night grows shorter as the sky brightens ever so slightly. You learn something new each one.
Until the next, you purr, and it’s off to sleep again…your belly full and proud if you were lucky tonight. If you’re one of the hungry ones, there’s always tomorrow with its creeping darkness bringing new opportunity.
Sleep soundly, you perfect creature of the night.