The forest is intensely dark and still tonight. There is a deep quiet that is undisturbed by even the whistle of a distant train. The are no insect sounds, or at least not many. An owl murmurs softly with its mate, a sound so soft it would likely be missed if I were not alone. And there is a deep darkness in the forest tonight—a black that swallows even the blinking glow of fireflies. But I do not find the silent black night troubling or disconcerting—as perhaps some people do. For me, it is profoundly peaceful, a space that bathes my tired thoughts, a blessing at the end of a long day. And I am thankful.