Several night hikes sweetened with resin from the Firs. At night they don’t fold in but the higher one goes the more they sway, and at the very top they are dwarfed by the elements, grow sideways, or squat and thick, or in a circular way, the bark twisting slowly over years.
The air at this altitude is still quite cool and dips even lower after dark. Though the dark takes some time to descend, when it does it seems sudden, almost heavy, and sweet.
Is it possible trees are more comfortable at night?
It was in Banff that I came to know the second blue hour, that of the 4 am variety. Up and around as plates shift deep under the earth, resonating up one’s spine.

And in the marshy land to the west of town Elk gather, ducks can be heard, if not seen, landing somewhere amidst the grasses.
I really need to get my hands on Christopher Dewdney’s Acquainted With the Night. Though I prefer to chart my own way through the unknown, a tip every now and then is helpful.