In November, I mourn the lack of sunlight for dog walks.
Now, most of our walks are under a lightening sky, a darkening sky, a dark sky.
Our 5 a.m. greet-the-morning walk, though, always takes place under a dark sky. At this time, the world seems the quietest.
The coyotes and other night creatures have gone to bed; and most humans and day creatures have yet to awake. I hear very little engine noise and see fewer, if any headlights.
Warmer-than-usual temperatures and calm winds have made these walks pleasant and unhurried this fall, and I find myself looking up at the sky, the clusters of stars, the stars that outshine the others.
On so many mornings, I've watched a star shake loose from its moorings, fall and fade.
As I wish on those shooting stars, I think how lucky I am and wonder if someone, somewhere, is doing the same.