The Dusk Walk
My walk today began at dusk. It was at a time when things begin to settle. Birds quieten down. People have dispersed from the ravine. Temperatures are more favourable for a stroll or a strut. Perhaps trust is also more on the wane at this hour, as the sun disappears.
Who knows why? There is the odd murder that takes place in this secluded bush. Those whom I did see in the ravine or at street level, were mostly couples—some gay—except for the sole, piercing light coming from the deep end of the ravine just before Mount Pleasant Cemetery. From there, that single night-eye came toward me, and as it moved closer, it revealed itself to be a runner with a head lamp. I couldn’t see a form, just the light, but then a sound presented, “Hello!”
“Good evening!” I responded to the formless fellow.
He may have been the last one down in the long ravine, as all life wound down their functions for the day.
“Haribol!” I said, this time speaking to a rabbit, a nocturnally more active fellow. It looked like this one wasn’t winding down.
I chanted on my beads the whole hour and forty minutes. And I hope that one day, as time rolls on in years, and with a change of consciousness in the world, I hope that I’ll not be the only one wrapping up light hours with the Name. I wish to see others participate in this game of exploration and love.
May the Source be with you!