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Taking walks at night
There’s this thing I do, and have always done. It’s something I didn’t see as a core personality trait until recently. Almost every evening, under the cover of darkness, no matter where I am or who I’m with, I go on a walk.
The world at night is cooler and it looks different. A lower visual intensity heightens my sound perception, but it’s gentler on all my senses. Fewer eyes are watching the streets at night, which makes them feel spacious and private. Nighttime is blissful solitude, a balm on my highly sensitive person (HSP) nerves.
At night I cruise, enjoying the scenery and moving as quickly or slowly as I like. No two walks are alike because I try to pick novel routes each night. I usually add a touch of THC to enhance the sensory experiences, but not every walk is magical.
In Filipinotown at night, I walk past tents surrounded by trash. Uphill, over the freeway, I’m awestruck by the glimmering ribbons of red and white lights and the lack of a railing to prevent me from jumping. I stop to appreciate sunflowers taller than me, washed in purple street light. If I’m with Dudley or Misha, they pause to pee and poop. If the walk is a long one, I pee too. We stop at the yard where two aging Golden Retrievers live. They’re friendly, sniffing us, then allowing me to rub their silky coats through the fence. I pass rusting RVs and a vintage Jaguar with four…
