Sandstone Press

Moonwalking

Posted by Jamie Whittle on 20th December 2009

About ten years ago or so, I remember a friend describing how she had spent the night of Christmas Eve hiking in the moonlight.  Although I had begun trips into the mountains after dark before, these had typically been under the short range guidance of a head torch.  Moonwalking, as I like to think of it, has a different dimension, when the world comes alive with a magic that’s hard to find in the daylight and in the summer months.

It’s a pastime for between the autumnal and vernal equinoxes in Scotland.  The best conditions being a clear or partly cloudy sky in the three weeks between waxing and waning crescent moons. Naturally, the closer you are to the full moon the more light there is likely to be.

As work life in the in the winter months began to fill the daylight hours, I found an increasing need to be outdoors in the nighttime.  The revelation that I could walk without the need for artificial light when the moon was out, freed up a new space for movement.

As for walking, I’m a follower of Henry Thoreau’s idea of “sauntering” - just setting off without any fixed route in mind, and letting the walk unfold through circumstance and instinct. 

In my last house towards the top of the Mosset Burn, I remember setting off one night at about eleven o’clock as soon as I could see the moon rising through the pine trees on Romach Hill.  Speeding through the surface hoar frost, I followed a forestry track to the top of the hill, the full moon dazzling the country between the divide with the River Lossie and my footprints.

Since moving towards the coast, my favourite moonwalk is to climb the Tappoch hill at the back of my house, ideally in snow.  At the top of the hill, the laich of Moray and the street lights of fishing towns as far east as Buckie and reaching north up to the Easter Ross seaboard all stretch out before the eye. 

I think of the traditional song of ‘The Fox’ (be sure to check out the version by Nickel Creek), setting out on a chilly night and praying to the moon to give him light.  I think of the possibilities that walking at night presents, following paths and hedgerows across country, and moving in the stillness and the shadows.

Tomorrow is midwinter.  Hogmanay is the next full moon, and is also a blue moon (second full moon in a calendar month).  There is snow about, and the next few nights are forecast to be clear and cold.  ‘Tis the season for moonwalking indeed.