Some nights I lay silently on the grass. When I find sleep won’t come easily, the sounds of still life keep my mind from running a whole train loop. Tonight, the crickets chirp as loud as ever. Fireflies flicker in and out of sight. I lift my finger up to touch one, but just before it connects with the little insect, the bug flickers back into the darkness. Part of me envy’s them—the power to appear and disappear. Wouldn’t such a thing make life simpler? What if I were a firefly? I shake my head and scoff into my palms. That is a ridiculous thought.

Occasionally, I see a tiny bat zoom by, but I don’t fear them. We are two different creatures surviving in the same universe. Even though Mr Bat may not appreciate it, I am sure he can understand me seeking a break from busy life into his mostly quiet one. He knows how it feels to fly through the night. I can know what it means to lay on my front lawn and watch him do it. Such freedom in perfect dimness. The absence of the sun, it seems, gives many creatures a chance to walk the valley of man with ease. If only I were able to do it with such grace. Then again, perhaps we aren’t that diverse. We both get by by looking for shadows to hide in. The only differerence being, it happens to work in their favor.

Branches cascade downward to the ground—my great grandpa’s willow tree. Is it weird to say that trees speak? I swear with every sway of their branches and tickle of their leaves, they say something. But you can only hear it if your listening, and I mean _really _listening. I like to think of the big willow tree as the one in charge of all the others. He dances gently, while the other, regular trees knock into each others leaves to claim space. That is why leaves crinkle and brush others trees branches.

Question: Do you still find me sane?

I promise I am. I only tend to consider things deeper than most people. Does that still make me an oddity? A twig snaps just by my left ear, and when I turn my head, I nearly jump out of my skin. A doe stands just over me. Her chestnut face leans down toward mine. She sniffs me, curiously. I try not to move, not to make a sound. She’s so gentle. So innocent. I wouldn’t want to spook such a careful creature. Call me crazy (though I wouldn’t be surprised if you already have), but its almost as though she’s telling me something with her eyes. My reflection stares back through a vast pool of midnight orbs and inky lashes. Long, brown hair splayed across grass, and the same wonder found in my expression. We have an understanding I can’t grasp.

Perhaps a few more moments and I would’ve been able to decipher it, but the front door to my house creaks open, and she takes off with barely any sound. A gust of wind chills me to the bone, shaking the leaves. The trees have a frenzy.

“Avery,” my dads voice calls. “Watcha doing out here? It’s late.”

I stand and wipe grass off my sweatpants. “Coming,” I say. If I’d tried to explain, would he have gotten it? Most people don’t. As I swiftly step up the stairs to my porch, I pause at the door. “The trees need more space to themselves, don’t you think?” Trying never hurt anyone, though.

Dad chuckles. “The trees?”

“Yeah. They’ve gotta be too close together to be comfortable.” When I look back, the willows branches reach towards me in gesture of gratitude. I smile.

“They’re getting by fine enough,” he answers sweetly. I shrug and walk inside the house. Warmth smacks against my face. Have you ever heard of someone missing the cold?

“Saw a doe out there,” I state.

“Did you now…?” The door closes and his voices muffles out.