It's Warm In The Woods

It's that melancholy time of year again, where the sun goes down before 8:00, meaning I'm in trouble if I can't get my bike out of the woods by then. So much for riding after work - the season's almost over. But I noticed something inspiring last night, barreling out of the woods at 7:30 after watching the sun go down from the edge of the escarpment. Follow me. The dew sets in within minutes of the sun sinking below the horizon, which feels like all of the humidity in the air condenses and falls to the ground. Simple enough so far. All of the heat in the air just disappears, and I swear I felt the moment it got cold last night, and it seems reasonable to assume that it's cold because the sun is no longer out. And that's wrong, and here's where it gets tricky: this only seems to happen in open areas.
As I ride through both fields and forests on this trail interchangeably, I saw it. Or rather felt it. At that time of night, the woods are dark, and it takes a huge amount of focus to keep me eyes from playing tricks on me on the trail. In turn, the residual light in the fields is blinding. At that very moment, cool air hits my skin like a sack of oranges. It seems intuitive that this would be ideal, but the cold air is a huge contrast to the heat in the woods. The woods stay warm and humid! I don't know why this happens. Maybe it's the lack of grass on the forest floor, or maybe it's the trees, but one thought becomes very dominant: the forest itself is very much alive, and I'm so thankful that life offers me these kinds of opportunities to experience such beautiful phenomena.