"Dark Night Chills" by Glenn Beckmann

The following story was penned by my good friend Glenn, a writer, artist and all-around outdoorsman who lives in Alaska.

I hear a call sometimes at night after you're asleep. I need to feel this night's air. Tonight it's cold and dark, as my boots crush the frozen snow beneath. Each step fills the peace. I try to find the spot that feels right; it's quiet, and then I'm still.

I hold my breath to let this night's calling filter in. First a cold chill touches me, as I'm focusing the shadows. The wind is soft and steady. It's my first call this night as I hear branches whisper, as they comb the breeze They almost hide the voices of this night.

Tonight this breeze cuts. I shiver, but continue to listen. A distant wash of an ocean's heartbeat pounds the beach. It's clear to me now, it's constant. But that's not all that's calling me; I'm still being pulled.

I look up to this nights sky, and this opens me to a deeper chill. My body shakes with a heavy shiver. I need to cross my arms to keep it still. It subsides.

This night's blackened sky is filled with life, and it's calling me. Like the stretched trees around me, we both are pulled upwards. Stories are being told in patterns of pinhole lights, each twinkle a song that fills me with wonder. I'm lost in its peace, and for a moment time stands still--until a blade of shocking cold cuts me. I awaken to this earth that keeps me. I want to listen to the this nights sky, but my body is chilled; it tells me no.

I make my way back to bed. I shiver one last time as I slip my bare feet into the bed beside you.