The Dog Star and the Cat
Who knew that deciding on a cup of herbal tea at three in the morning would lead to a shining moment and an unexpected gift?
I certainly did not. A search in the kitchen cupboard revealed the absence of my favourite travel cup. Its surface image of a purple nebula (courtesy of the Hubble Telescope) would stimulate my imagination whenever I sipped a brew of passion flowers and hibiscus.
With a groan, I recalled leaving the cup down at the barn that evening. My watch showed 3:10 am. Surely retrieving it could wait until morning? Ah, no — it was unthinkable to drink tea in anything else.
Feeling resigned, I grabbed a headlamp, pulled on a warm jacket and boots, and headed out into the cool, clear night. The tall spruce trees in the driveway surrounded me, enfolding me in pine and wet earth-scented darkness. I briefly switched off my headlamp and paused. All was quiet except for the faintest whisper of the trees gathered in their secret coven. I heard a distant barred owl call. My annoyance faded like mist. I was hooked.
Night walks are a unique adventure. I have memories of treks across the snow by moonlight, the air shimmering with tiny ice crystals, or making my way through the forest by starlight alone, feeling merged with the darkness. This little jaunt to the barn started to turn into a mini adventure.
When I left the trees to cross the open clearing before the barn, wonder struck me. In the black night sky, I first noticed Orion’s Belt, followed by the rest of the stars of that constellation. Orion isn’t visible over the summer, and I felt like I was welcoming an old friend as autumn advanced. But the star to the left of Orion made the breath catch in my throat. By far the brightest object I could see, it broadcast its power over all the lesser glimmering points of light. I couldn’t help myself; I raised a hand and positioned the star against my finger, imagining it to be Nenya, Tolkien’s adamantine ring of power. “Well… no one is looking,” I thought to myself.
But as I glanced away, my headlamp caught the reflection of two glowing eyes getting steadily closer. Suddenly, the eyes flared, and then the creature rushed towards me.
“Miaow.” An orange-furred body rubbed against my legs.
“Ginger! What are you doing here? Catching mice around the barn? Is the hunting good?”
“Prrrt, miaow!”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”
I walked into the blackness of the barn, once the home of an owl family, and retrieved my cup, standing just where I had left it.
Ginger and I walked home. Actually, I walked, and he scooted ahead, running up the nearest trees and back to me again, making me smile. When we reached the front door, I looked up at the night sky one last time, still filled with wonder. A satellite raced its way across the vault of heaven.
After I made it, I took my cup of tea out on the back deck, viewing the cup’s purple and blue cosmos design with a new appreciation. The tea tasted good.
Voron Forest, https://voronforestauthor.com
