via google images
"Father Winter Solstice"
I think it's interesting that I'd have this experience on the winter solstace (Dec. 21), but here it is: darkness and light.
They say that the winter solstace is the longest night of the year and the shortest day, but it only lasts a moment in time. It's difficult to imagine on a bright and sunny Arizona day there'd be much "darkness." However, darkness is everywhere--even in broad daylight.
I was out with Buddy having a very nice walk on the canal, when I heard shrill and distressed barking. I saw a larger Chihuahua standing on a dirt mound across the canal from me, barking at a man walking past him. I kept my eye on the dog and decided he was definitely lost and without person, so I took Buddy home and got a different lead and some treats and went back to the where the dog was. He was now barking at something I couldn't immediately see.
The dog was backing away from seemingly nothing, continuing to bark, until he realized that I was behind him. As he was noticing me, this figure stepped out of the bushes, standing very still. I'm not sure if it was a man or woman and he didn't step out as much as appear. I've never been one to be afraid of homeless people and even some crazy people--I try to treat them with humanity and not treat them as if they are nonexistent; although, I've been around some who were volatile and made me nervous. For some reason this situation was different--there was a very weird energy. This person was a long ways away from me, but I felt something ominous coming from him. I tried to ignore it as I whistled to the dog and tried to call him to me, but I felt surrounded by this bad energy--it's almost as if we were in an enclosed space and I was being swallowed up by some force. We were in a wide-open space--a kind of park-like area of the canal. I've never felt this way before. What's worse, is that on this very bright winter's day I couldn't see this person's face. His face was a shadow in the brightness and his movements were very slow and deliberate. Almost as if he was trying to "catch" me, like I was trying to catch this lost dog. He started to creep slowly towards me and the dog took off down the canal, looking back only to bark. I asked him if the dog was his, feeling that it wasn't because the dog's tail was tucked so far between his legs and wanted nothing to do with him. He nodded "yes," so slowly and silently that I decided that I was done with being a pet detective and was leaving myself. I took one last look after the dog, feeling that I would be trapped if I went down the canal after the dog because we were at one end (with the street to escape to) and the other end was a long ways away. It was so strange to feel frightened like that.
I left feeling heebed out and wondering what he wanted with that poor little dog. For split second I had the terrible and irrational thought as I hurried away, "I hope he doesn't eat it!" Bottom line: I hope the little dog is safe and has found his way.
It was a very strange encounter of dark and bright in the middle of the day, on the winter solstace.
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