Recently we moved to a small barrier island on the coast of New England. It's a beautiful spot, full of sand, wind and water. This end of the island's packed with old summer cottages that are daily turning into three-story homes. I love our street, it's full of kids our son plays with, and I know everyone here by name. But at night, when I go for a walk, it's south, to the unlit part of the beach, that I head. Here the night sky is dazzling, and out from the depths of the Atlantic springs forth wave after wave of water to break upon the sand at my feet.

I love this walk at night, especially in a winter's storm. I start out reluctant, a part of me preferring the warmth and comfort of home. But the storm's pull is strong, rattling the windows, howling at the door. Its invitation is irresistible, and finally I go. By the time I walk the block and a half to the beach, I'm smiling.

My cheeks cool quickly, and the warmth I've carried from home leaks out with each step, each swing of my arms. I know if I meander too slowly, I'll be cold and shivering in minutes. To stay out here I must light the fire of my own body, so I walk fast, straight into the wind.

Soon I'm breathing heavy, sucking in lungfulls of frozen air. All the thoughts of the day are left behind with my footprints, swallowed up by the night. The core of my body heats up, pumps fiery hot blood to my arms and legs, fingers and toes. The sting of the wind softens, and my cheeks grow warm, melting the windblown snow on my face. It trickles down my neck and onto my chest, bringing shivers, mixing with my own sweat, until it disappears in the warmth of my body. My heart swells and my head swoons. Yee-ha! I'm happy to be alive.

I feel myself surrounded by holy spirits; devas, faeries and angels who sing praise with me in the shrieking of the wind. I reach out to them, arms upraised. My steps lighten and I twirl, pulling them into me, pouring myself into them, into the storm. We blend together, merging in the night, and the beach becomes the vastness of the Milky Way, we the stars upon its shore. Together we dance, across galaxies filled with light.

I stumble home, drunk with the ecstasy of union. Soon I'm between the cool sheets of bed, listening to the storm outside, feeling it raging within. I'm kin with all the creatures out there, the deer and coyotes, rabbits and birds, all curled up in their nests. I pull the covers close, drifting to sleep.