Last night I paused to look out into the yard behind my home as I often do before retiring to bed. This was in the early hours of the night and now that the strong winds across the country have subsided, there was that familiar spooky silence once again.

I did notice an odd halo effect from the moon as the light refracted through the thin clouds hanging limp in the sky. It would have enough to stop superstitious medieval peasants in their tracks and even the lack of hollering from nightclubbers was noticeable.

Although I tried to get to sleep, there's something about the cold air and warm bedding that makes that difficult if not impossible, especially as the morning drags on and a deeper chill takes hold. Not because of any discomfort I think, just the unfamiliar conditions. My dilemma wasn't helped by urban foxes. Usually I hear them issuing loud shrieks. This time it was a series of yelps. Quieter, in deference to the mod of the evening, but nonetheless impossible to ignore. I never cease to be amazed how a creature normally so covert can make such a nuisance of itself.

Laying there in the gloom I naturally began to mull things over in my mind, like you do, and for some reason I began thinking of a certain lady I met a while back. You know, the usual idle musings, like where she is, what she's doing, whether she still remembers me. Most of us think along these lines sooner or later in our own privacy so who am I to break with tradition?

I always found her calm, confident, contientious, and completely disarming. Also I couldn't help regarding her as downright sexy. There's nothing wrong with admiration, maybe a little flirting, and even infatuation can be harmless if you keep hold of the emotional reins. Nonetheless in the short time I spent with her I reached that point where a decision had to be made. Should I risk everything and make some foolhardy attempt to progress the relationship to the desirable conclusion? Or play safe and avoid socially awkward moments, outrage, scorn, or mockery?

She knew I was making that decision. As those mental cog wheels began to turn she was was standing close by, watching me intently. In my younger days hormones and bravado often made the choice for me as they do with everyone else. To do otherwise offended the raw british working class need for rite of passage. These days I have other considerations. So I made my choice.

There is a possibility she's reading this right now. Embarrasing? No, not at all, she already knew what was going on in that male psyche of mine. Rest assured that honour and reputation are safe. I smile to myself because - Well, I believe I made the right choice, and the truth is I don't see what I have to prove. The funny thing is that whichever course of action I'd decided on, it was always going to end with me thinking back to that moment.

So I lay there thinking happy thoughts and waited for that darn fox to finally get what it wanted from the nearest female of the species. Maybe then I could get some sleep.

Movie Moment Of The Week

Picture the scene. Steven Seagal confronts bad mouthed bully in an alaskan bar. Usually this would be the excuse for fast paced violence that only Steven Seagal can do. Come to think of it, that's generally all he ever does in films. He isn't known for masterful acting nor does he ever seem to land a script that demands anything more than a grim focused expression before he deals lightning pain to the nearest unfortunate victim. But no, gasp, a moment of dialogue!

"What does it take to change the essence of a man?" He asked in that odd whisper of his. Erm... Let me think... No, not sure I know the answer to that one. The threat of lightning fast violence perhaps? Just a guess...