I went for a nice run through the Arb at about eight tonight. The sights were fantastic: a nearly-full moon lit up much of my route so well that my headlamp's beam disappeared, a dozen strobing jets were heading in to MSP, the Big Dipper was as obvious as cars' headlights on HIghway 19.
The best part of the run, though, was a sound. Running through the moonlit shadows on the road leading to the Arb's entrance, I had just started passing in front of Oak Lawn Cemetery when an unseen owl hooted three times, very slowly and very loudly. It was a week early, but spooky as hell.