Night has changed from a terrible, scary, bleak, miserable time to a cool, quiet time of solitary peacefulness. I am no longer (so very) scared of the dark, fearful of monsters that hide in wait. I think it’s part of a pattern, actually: no longer so scared of winter, of darkness, of the monsters.
I’m still fearful of the things that scared me in childhood. I’m still scared of what I was told to be scared of, what the stories warned me about, and so on. However, instead of a giant bleak landscape of unknown terror, it is starting to get edges, familiar shapes and I’m getting more comfortable here.
The moon is bright and beautiful, and the cool air is a welcome relief from the warmth of summer days. I’m starting to accept that I cannot have one without the other.