As I bundled up to walk home last night, a coworker was very surprised that I was going to walk. I thought maybe it was because it was so cold and the sidewalks have slippery patches and after months of healing, my ankle is doing really well. One slip could ruin that!
No, she asked if I was nervous to walk when it was so dark out. Me? Nervous of the dark? No way! I laugh in the face of the monster lurking in driveways, who turns out to be a mild mannered garbage can. I approach zombies without a care in the world, passing them as they turn back into light poles. I hum in time with the ghostly footsteps that follow me for half a block, and when I turn to look....well....when I turn to look there isn't anyone there. Ghostly, I says.
I confidently told her that the dark at 5:45 pm doesn't bother me so much. It's the dark at 5:45 am that gets my heart pounding. In the evening, cars are driving, people are getting home, the world is alive with normal. In the morning, when it's just me and the dogs and no one else is moving, it takes a certain amount of bravery to get out and walk.
She gave it a thought, then said to her, dark is dark, and she's not walking in it.
Smart gal. On the way home, all manner of trolls and hobgoblins were spotted at a distance. They all turned back into bushes as I walked by, except for one, who turned into a cat. Spooky!