Of an evening stroll...

I was on my way home tonight by foot, naturally, going the same way home my feet always take me. I don't know why I looked up, but suddenly a figure caught my eye. Catlike by round, a Racoon lumbered down the sidewalk. He stopped a moment and looked back at me, paying no head to the couple moving forward across the street and beyond. He watched me watching him, then wnet on his way, fluffy tail and glowing eyes daring me to follow as he waddled along. I did.

I followed the fuzzy bandit to an black iron fence alongside a rather nice looking apartment building. The kind you might nto associate with a racoon's hiding place, but to each their own, even in the animal kingdom. He paused one last time, watching me watching him. I told him I cold not follow him further tonight. a blink, and he was gone.

I continued down this new path, new architecture to take in in the quiet night, when silver light caught my eye. the moon, just coming into fullness, lay over my new path, leading me on, all but taking my hand for the journey. I wondered that She would take such time for me, but I smiled back at Her as I walked, content that she thought of me even if only for a moment.

and a moment was all it took to follow Her glow to a tiny house, gently situated back from the urban street, of no consequence to any but those who know to look. Lamplight on the cobled path to the door, the sound of running water heralding a starnge presence, palpable yet elusive. I wonder at seeing it again without the Moon to Guide me...

I wandered on only to have a black cat emerge from the streetlamp night, well-fed and fluffy in the last of his winter coat. He paused only a moment before rambling on in his sure-fotted kitty cat way.

A corner turned, homeward bound, I was caught enthralled, a garden of light. Tiny litted flowers, garish colors coming together in a goldwash of light, happily playing across dew-strewn grass, new leaves in colors only moonlight and streetlight can show.

Gentle intrigues all as the Moon rolls on, and the tides roll in, and the nodding night wind blows. But why the Lady fishes the streets, only the Lady knows...