Why I Woke Up To Nature at Night

A few years ago I gathered a group of women yoga students and friends together with the aim of conducting a little qualitative research on the subject of being out alone in the ‘wild’ at night. It was October, late and we had just come back to a cozy fire after I’d guided them on an experience of woodland night solitude. I kicked off the discussion with the big question:

‘What do you think about the idea of being a woman out in nature alone at night?’

One woman offered up, ‘I came because I was just curious - I had I had never thought about it… and I wanted to know why anyone would want to do it’ Most women in the group had not sought solitude in nature at night. Had never even walked the dog past streetlights. All women, however had the same eagerly shared response:

‘Wow - what an interesting subject!’

I’ll save that conversation, the crackle and heat of their thoughts, experiences and fears for a later…

Here I will simply address that simple question above - which emerged from the shadows - as clear as a beacon - why would anyone want to do it? Why would any woman want to go alone to the woods at night?

Every woman who intentionally - that is on purpose - seeks solo adventure in the wild at night will have her own answer. Here is mine:

Back before lockdown I had been reading a lot of Robert MacFarlane, England’s best known living writer of nature, for my creative writing course. I had read Henry Thoreau of course and the writings of John Muir, but that MacFarlane was English and current and relatively local made his experiences far more relatable. His slow resonance with the land upon which he walked, slept and woke were poetic but photo-real, like a conjuring of nature that was just within my reach.

My imagination was awakened but what was new - I had never felt this before - was that my response was embodied.

I keenly felt, the waking in a snow covered woods after a crisp, tense night. I felt the light, cold heft of the stone he described in his hand in my own hand.

MacFarlane was always completely at ease in his sojourns.

My body also wanted to experience his easeful, receptive solitude. I - suddenly and urgently - wanted to do this too. To walk and sleep alone elementally. To try ground below, night sky above, with nothing, not even a tent to shield me.

The next thought I had (after my body spoke) was this:

“…but you are a woman”.

As a woman, I had no reference - no data, no evidence, no map, no compass, no literature, no cannon in nature writing, psychology, philosophy, religion or myth which told me that being unprotected alone, especially at night, is safe.

I thought this, I felt this, I became saddened by this, I questioned this. Then I resisted it and tested “but you are a woman”.

And so I set out with a sleeping bag, crossed the threshold into the ancient woodland a mile from my home and started up a dialogue with night.

Why would anyone want to go out alone into the woods at night? Why would a woman?

Because we should feel like the world, the full field of earth and cosmos, light and dark is for us too.