I love the way the land looks after dark. Not a city for miles. Just my tent, mountains, grass, bushes, rocks, and even dirt, bathed in moonlight with a blue tint. In some lucky angles, silver. I can hear rustling from unknown animals fading away, perhaps more afraid of me than I, them. Never confront a wildbeast, just carry on as if their roars are as brief and brisk as the wind, like another star in the sky you’re probably not going to see again.