Under normal circumstances my bladder is full around four in the morning. For a few years now I've been considering a pail for my business but never seriously enough to actually bring one from home. Besides, heading outdoors in the middle of the night is not something I'd ever consider doing in the city. Yeah, once under the trees I could head down to the outhouse but that calls for a blind shot to a small target in a dark little box. Or perching on the seat and baring tender parts to whatever toothy vermin call the underfloor home. Much easier to simply enjoy the opportunity to take in the fullness above while emptying below. Mosquitoes are a problem during the warm months but this last week brought lows in the mid-thirties. Perfect evacuation weather.
Unfortunately, I saw only one star. Our land lies beneath a dark night sky. When there's no moon, the Milky Way looks like you could grab hold and pull yourself into the heavens. However, on the first night the clouds were thick and the world below, black. The other two nights were gauzed-over and hid all those up north stars but did little to damper the near full moon. I suppose it could have been brighter during the wee hours but no flashlight was needed when I wandered through the unlit cabin. Outside it was bright enough to read (should I have been interested in reading while I peed) so long as the print was large and held nose close. Don't know why I turned my back to the moon, maybe to read the book I didn't carry or to have my silhouette to fire upon. Started at my head and worked my way home. Don't recall if Cat Steven's song had him doing what I was doing to my moon shadow. Maybe I should check out the lyrics? Back in a minute…. Nope. Seemed he was concerned about losing his body parts and doin' a lot of leapin' and jumpin'. S'pose I could have pranced around while takin' a leak but my dance would've been more wet than wise.
Anyhow, as I was standing there spread-legged, off in the distance over on Deadman the trumpeter swans began to cavort. A city block away and their flapping and honking was clear as my shadow. A few seconds later they were joined by a chorus of coyotes yip-yippin' away. Can't say I've ever been accompanied a finer choir. All of us doing what comes (or goes) naturally.