A Very Dark Night

	A Very Dark Night Nick awoke in the night to the flapping of the canvas over his head. He’d stretched the old tarp over the half-finished roof earlier in the evening, just as the late-summer sun was sinking into the trees. The walls of the cabin were up, but not the roof; but Nick was tired of sleeping in the tent. Nick had been working on the cabin for two weeks now, ever since he’d bought the land on the Uncompaghre. He looked up, but there was no moon, and he couldn’t see anything. A corner of the canvas had come loose, and the wind was flapping it across one of the roof beams. It sounded like the wings of some great bird. As Nick’s eyes adjusted, he began to see a few stars around the corner of the canvas where it had pulled loose.
It was all right. The canvas was old, and the sky was clear. The fire Nick had laid in the half-finished fireplace had gone out. Even now, in August, the nights were cold. Nick pulled his sleeping bag tighter around himself. He thought about getting up, finding his flashlight, rekindling the fire, but his down bag was warm. He’d stay put. Nick was tired, but sleep didn’t come easy. He lay there thinking as the canvas flapped overhead. Through the gap, the few stars winked companionably at him. It would be lonely, living all alone out here on his two hundred and ninety acres. He was used to living in his apartment in Eagle, to tending bar to pay the bills, to writing in between working, hiking, and exploring the White River forest. Now all that was finished. His second book was written and sold. The advance, his first, made the down payment on his land, and bought his materials. The house he’d have to build himself. Now he was almost done; only the roof and some wiring and plumbing remained. The fall would come soon. Nick had an elk tag for the archery season. This would be his first year to hunt on his own land. There was a lot of elk sign in his high meadows, among the aspens, and in the forest on the north and east end of his property. Nick preferred elk or deer to any store-bought meat. The canvas flapped again, louder. The wind was freshening. A haze of cloud drew over the stars. Tomorrow, Nick decided, he’d finish the roof. Then he could spend the next day tramping among his aspens. He pulled his sleeping bag tighter around his shoulders, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

A Very Dark Night

Nick awoke in the night to the flapping of the canvas over his head.

He’d stretched the old tarp over the half-finished roof earlier in the evening, just as the late-summer sun was sinking into the trees. The walls of the cabin were up, but not the roof; but Nick was tired of sleeping in the tent.

Nick had been working on the cabin for two weeks now, ever since he’d bought the land on the Uncompaghre.

He looked up, but there was no moon, and he couldn’t see anything. A corner of the canvas had come loose, and the wind was flapping it across one of the roof beams. It sounded like the wings of some great bird. As Nick’s eyes adjusted, he began to see a few stars around the corner of the canvas where it had pulled loose.

It was all right. The canvas was old, and the sky was clear.

The fire Nick had laid in the half-finished fireplace had gone out. Even now, in August, the nights were cold. Nick pulled his sleeping bag tighter around himself. He thought about getting up, finding his flashlight, rekindling the fire, but his down bag was warm. He’d stay put.

Nick was tired, but sleep didn’t come easy. He lay there thinking as the canvas flapped overhead. Through the gap, the few stars winked companionably at him.

It would be lonely, living all alone out here on his two hundred and ninety acres. He was used to living in his apartment in Eagle, to tending bar to pay the bills, to writing in between working, hiking, and exploring the White River forest. Now all that was finished. His second book was written and sold. The advance, his first, made the down payment on his land, and bought his materials. The house he’d have to build himself. Now he was almost done; only the roof and some wiring and plumbing remained.

The fall would come soon. Nick had an elk tag for the archery season. This would be his first year to hunt on his own land. There was a lot of elk sign in his high meadows, among the aspens, and in the forest on the north and east end of his property. Nick preferred elk or deer to any store-bought meat.

The canvas flapped again, louder. The wind was freshening. A haze of cloud drew over the stars.

Tomorrow, Nick decided, he’d finish the roof. Then he could spend the next day tramping among his aspens.

He pulled his sleeping bag tighter around his shoulders, rolled over, and went back to sleep.