Walking down a woods road at the night end of twilight, l try to marshal my thoughts. But my mind tugs away like a puppy unreconciled to the leash. It chases old remembrances, worries at the cares of friends and family, and dashes towards tomorrow’s plans and future uncertainties.
Leaves rustle to my right. In an instant, wayward thoughts return, alert, on point.
I share awareness of this moment with a night-hidden, skittering creature, with no notion of its life on either side of this moment, nor it of mine.
The woods are quiet. I walk on. Chastened, my mind heels for a short span.
Towards the Moon or To the Sun 