I planted onion sets until the light was lost. Until the colours were lost and everything was as dark as the soil. Then a flutter in the air caught my eye.  I ran into the house and scooped up my daughter and took her out into the cold air of the night. Where we watched the bat and whispered about his home in the eaves of the house. We whispered about our day being his night, and our story time being his breakfast time. Off hunting on a night full of dark and full of moths.