The silent gloom that sits on the water and permeates the water's edge softly re-assures me that nothing really matters. The quiet blinking stars kept on. I look up at the dimensions of millions of stars and think about why petty human concerns loom again and again almost every moment of our lives.
"Something out there stares at you. Its tiny little eyes gleaming and moving on the water's surface.
Darkness is rewarding. So is silence. You are all alone in that black - just the dark pine and mirror waters, also draped in night, for company.
And suddenly all music and clamour is lost in that silent blinking lullaby that the stars sing. All light and tones of the day are gone and you bask in that grey-ness, nothing to expose you - nothing to make you stand out from blending with the trees and mounts. The grace of the night.
The water ripples. Now the water is disturbed. Could there be something out there? It's long tentacles stirring the water and watching you through that minute swaying lights, rippling with the clear inky lake."