Night again. Clear. No moon. Peace isn’t easy to come by tonight. Dog barks. The wild cats are tame enough, by night at least, to share space on the deck with me. More barking, this time from down in the valley.

I see new growth appearing on the old Christmas tree, released to the forest before I moved here. It does not precisely thrive in this oak and hickory forest but it does grow. Considering that most Christmas trees never get a second chance, that is something.

A frog, two locusts, a goose questioning softly, perhaps saying "good night." Traffic in the distance, a jet. A creak and a crack that could be an animal step on the dry leaves or...simply something falling from a tree.

Odd how the wild cats seek my company at night. Raggedy ears, he of the ears shredded in a dozen places or more, preens on the step. His coat is flea-bitten and looks like a bad haircut. One of last year’s kittens, still playful, seeks the moths and the locusts but is wary of me.
Calm and still, early on a spring night.