what we have here is a failure to communicate

The moon was orange and nearly round last night, as my friend and I circumnavigated Witch Hole Pond. We had my friend’s dog Josie with us, and we felt mildly protected by her presence. Even so, we made sure to converse about safe, daylight infused things, and stay away from the spooky subjects.

My friend admitted later to having almost asked the question, “Which do you think is scarier – not knowing what’s in the darkness ahead, or knowing that you may have passed something that is now lurking behind?”

I related the legends of Witch Hole Pond in an earlier post, and it was that story that inspired my friend and I to dare our moonlit venture. It was a warm night, and the legions of peepers were in stereo surround sound, the volume turned way up.

We trotted along, imagined phantoms nipping at our heels, and Josie pulling on the leash. The evening passed quietly however. No tall figures shrouded in shadow appeared in our path, and we were not forcibly escorted to any mad-capped weddings either.

We were neither relieved nor disappointed. It was a lovely walk in the dark beneath a beautiful moon, and we returned to our car completely satisfied, and deliciously pleased with our abundant courage and daring.

In fact, the only startling moment of the evening occurred once I had driven home. As I got sleepily out of my car, a pretty brown and white cat scared the breath out of me when it ran out from beneath the neighbor’s porch.

To it’s credit, unlike the unblinking yellow-eyed, scorched black cats of my stories, this cat came to it’s own skidding frightened halt at the sight of me – a veritable giant appearing out of the night with heavy steps that pounded “Doom, doom” upon the gravel!

And throughout, the moon looked mildly down.