Ever since I can remember I have loved the night. 

As little kids we played flashlight tag after dinner, and in the winter my mom took us skating on the town pond under a full moon. And what could be more thrilling to a child than sitting around a toasty campfire in the dark roasting marshmallows? My parents never “warned” us about the night and I don’t remember ever needing a nightlight – I’ve always slept in the pitch black with my door closed.

Not only have I never feared the dark, but in many ways I prefer it.  It may have something to do with being right-brained and, consequently, possessing an overactive imaginary life.  But for me it feels like a sixth sense involving a deeper level of freedom and wonderment.

As a teenager my first boyfriend and I spent innocent hours together walking at night, since we lived in a small rural town with nothing to do and no transportation. We would meet each other in the shadows halfway between our houses, and wander the narrow winding roads until we realized it was time to hurry home. . . another twilight memory I’ve always cherished.

As a young woman in college and later living in Minneapolis, I had no problem venturing out at night on my own - simply because I had spent my whole life experiencing night. I jogged at night, took the bus downtown at night, and yes, even cut through parks at night. I had been raised fully equipped with common sense about where to safely walk and whom to avoid.

When our kids were born I wanted to make sure they too worshipped the night (as well as insects & critters) as much as I did. Often I could be seen at 10pm taking a baby for a stroll through the city where we lived, delighting in the headlights whizzing by. I remember once playing in a community sandbox with my 2 year-old daughter just before her bath time. A neighbor rushed over to ask if we were okay.  I’m not sure she understood my whole nighttime theory, but at least she didn’t call the cops.

Currently we live near one of those wonderful old New England cemeteries, many stones dating back to the 1700’s.  Just as I had spent giggly evenings running around my hometown graveyard, my kids are fearless about walking the dog through ours late at night.  And they can’t understand why it totally freaks out their friends to visit the plots on Halloween. (Of course, we’ve never been fans of horror movies – which are pretty much responsible for culturally demonizing the twilight hours.)

These days, one of our very favorite things to do as a family is hike down the dirt road to the lake just before we head to bed. The rule is you can’t glance up at the sky until everyone is on the dock and on their backs. For anyone who has ever been up in the mountains on a clear night, nothing feels more “spiritual” than the ebony skies awash with glittering stars… the very concept too awesome to comprehend. So all you can do is lie back, accept the mystery, and soak in the magic of the night.