In the Strange of a Winter Night

Living far out in the country, my trash disposal collection system is somewhat odd. Biweekly, a rumbling truck descends onto the prairie out in front of my house and extends a mechanical arm to pick up my bin and empty my trash into its massive collection box.

I happened to be awake at 4:10 a.m. this morning when the trash collection truck arrived, spangled in bright lights. For no particular reason, I decided at 4:14 a.m. to retrieve my bin and drag it back to my house.

Let me assure you, it’s a different world at 4:14 a.m. on a January morning in far north Montana. I stepped out into a vast and dark expanse. The temperature stood somewhere in the single digits. This is not a world we are naturally equipped to survive in. The hard-packed snow on my drive squeaked under my shoes as I left the shroud of light from my open garage door and headed toward my bin.

Out on the open prairie, in the strange of a winter night, while dragging my bin back home, I stopped in my tracks. Beautiful! I was surrounded by a dome of flexing stars. The white, snowy expanse appeared light blue—soft in color. Once I had stopped, the world became soundless. Just me and all those stars directing their valuable light at me.

—Mitchell Hegman