I step out of my truck, and the cold slams into me. It sends my teeth into a rapid chatter and my breath billows out in front of me in a thick fog. I try, in vain, to wrap my coat tighter around myself, but the low temperature has already worked itself into my bones, and has curled up to stay. A low fog rolls over the lake, and even the weather hardy ducks are climbing out of the freezing water and into their nests. I look up at the mountains and the sun is beginning to retreat, moving lower and lower into the sky, warning the animals that it is time for bed. The rays from the sun are drawing in like multiple arms after a long and thorough stretch. The sun meets midway in the sky with, if you turn around and look, the outline of the moon. Polar opposites, at this moment they seem like one upon a time lovers giving each other a knowing smile as they pass their children from one hand to the other. Soon the sun is sinking into the mountains like a large quarter into a piggy bank. The large molten sphere slips away, but its fading colors are still lingering on, they want to stay and do not want to rest for a whole twelve hours.

The sky is slipping on its night cloak, and the first stars appear, like small holes in cloth providing a small comfort for those who fear the night and what it brings with it. A bright owl swoops over head and lets out a loud screech, as if signaling the start of an altogether entirely different world. The yipping howls of a pack of rejoicing coyotes drowns out the last tired peeps of the birds, and a large raccoon lumber his way across the black pavement towards a house promising a can of garbage. The night has awoken and I find myself reveling in the darker and more severe opportunities that it has to offer.