Midnight Phantom
Moonlight filters in through the window,
forming pools on the dark blue quilt. Cold, frozen snow drifts in garlands of
gossamer through the open bedroom window, landing lightly on my eyelashes. I
hear a creature’s quiet call out in the dark woods. What is this creature that
has ventured into our forest in the middle of winter? A few minutes later, I
creep among the trees, y dark jumper and jeans contrasting against the high, bright
snow that blankets the forest floor. A rustle to my left.
I turn, wary of what might be here with me, invisible in the night, but see
nothing. A flick of black, a soft thud. I move slowly, deliberately, slinking
like a shadow beneath the forbidding glares of the towering, malignant pines. I
peer around the trunk of a bare, lonely birch tree – frozen inside itself,
waiting for spring to release it from winter’s icy grip – and watch as a
beautiful apparition steps through the deep snow drifts. I blink several times,
astonished, making sure that this magical phantom in front of me is indeed
real.
His head turns toward me, dark
intelligent eyes framed by long lashes, considering me. I can almost imagine he
is wondering if I may be a threat, but I would never dream of harming something
so lovely.
The moonlight sparkles on the snow
dusting his gleaming ebony back, tangling in his long mane like icicles. The
black polished stones of his hooves meet the long shapely legs, graced with
knee high stockings, rising to join his muscled torso. The graceful neck arches
proudly towards the sky, ears flicking erectly forward, pinpointing my
movements.
I carefully slide my foot through the
snow, moving as slowly as possible so as not to startle him into flight. His
eyes roll slightly, legs stiffening, ready to bolt as the smallest sign of
danger. I slowly raise my hand to chest height, palm upwards, looking deep
into the stallion’s glorious dark eyes. Resting in the center of my palm is a
perfect white cube of sugar. His nostrils flare, longing for the precious treat
warring with his cautious nature. Finally, he decides and steps forward, neck
stretched towards the cube. I draw my hand back slowly, hoping he will come
closer. Snorting and stamping his hoof in irritation, he sidles towards me. I
feel the soft muzzle snuffling my palm as he delightedly chomps of the sweet
treat. A cloud of white fog envelopes my hand, misting it from view.
His fear and caution overcome, he nuzzles
my pockets, looking for more treats. I produce several more, and he stands
right against me now, mane dancing along my arm as he savors the sugary cube,
nodding his head in delight.
Marveling, I run my fingers gently down
his moon streaked back, brushing delicate snowflakes from his coat, feeling a
sharp twinge of cold against my fingertips as I do so. His coat is velvet soft,
black as a raven’s wing. He tosses his silken mane, shimmering beneath the
stars, and shifts his weight from one hoof to the other. I stroke from him
muzzle, down his smooth neck, over his muscled shoulder, and along the
sensitive flank. He does not mind my presence any longer, standing contentedly
with me in the silent clearing.
After what seems like an eternity, but in
actual fact is only several minutes, I know I must take my leave; I cannot stay
out here in the snow-swept forest all night. Reluctantly, I give his finely
shaped head one last caress; stroking from the white star in the center of his
forehead down to the pale pink snip on his soft nose. I sadly turn my back and
unwillingly retrace my steps toward the warm, inviting house. A soft nicker
forces my head around. The stallion is standing in the open clearing, snow
swirling about his legs, covering my footprints. The moonlight illuminates his
coat, turning it to a midnight blue instead of black. He is looking at me,
farewell evident in his deep unfathomable eyes and I know I will never forget
this wondrous encounter with this gorgeous creature that sparkled like diamonds
in the night.
