A fingernail sliver of the moon hung behind the branches of a tree. She felt lightened by its presence.
The night was becoming unfamiliar to her because she was spending less time with it. The days were growing longer and so when darkness set in, she was already worn from the day. She did not pursue the night and it’s delicacies as she did in winter. Rather she tired at twilight and set to settle soon after that. She forgot the silent wisdom it brought.
Though it was Spring, her body didn’t conspire the energy of youth as much. She was stepping back from her compulsions and observing more. Realizations came to her like the weight of a lover's eyes catching hers from afar. It was subtle and glorious with the volume turned down so she had to settle to hear it.