The evening routine of many forest animals was disrupted recently by a column of 50 people hiking through the woods over crusty snow aided by the light of a full moon.

Organized by the Francestown Land Trust and Francestown Conservation Committee, the outing, “Moonlight Hike/Snowshoe,” stepped off from the front door of Tim and Amy Coffin’s house (yes, my brother and sister-in-law, which got us a front-row parking place), following a path across their large open field to the trail Tim has cleared through a thicket of trees.

After about a quarter mile, it connected with Joslin Road, then to Bullard Hill and back to their house, where cakes and crumbles waited with hot drinks. In all, about a mile-long loop.

It was a jolly parade and I could not help thinking what the neighboring creatures thought as we marched along. (“Are they leaving?”) I sympathized with those inhabitants trying to get some sleep, or getting ready, after dark, to head out with the grocery list.

I am writing this a few days after the event and I am sure the forest is still buzzing. I am. A walk in the woods at night always spikes the senses. We should do it more often, as a way to shake us from our sheltered (literally, of course) worlds.

We stopped a few times to look up at the moon in its full, reflecting brilliance. At the moment, it is roughly 252,000 miles from earth, which is close to its maximum distance. But it loomed large and luminous enough to cast shadows on the ground. If you have not brushed up on moon facts recently, I can help.

The moon reflects only one-tenth of the sunlight that hits it. The balance is absorbed by its dark, volcanic surface. One-tenth of the light that hits the moon, therefore, is enough, with a few headlamps, to allow a large group to meander over uneven backyard terrain from 252,000 miles away.

This is another thing we should do more often, which is wade into the large numbers that contribute to our existence. There is no harm being in awe of the fact that a fraction of sunlight bouncing off an object hundreds of thousands of miles away has enough intensity to draw us outdoors at night. I submit our presidential candidates should be required to spend three nights around a campfire with a view of the sky as part of their spiritual journey to the office.

The moon has been compelling us in different ways for millennia. A few people on the walk noted that at the very moment we stood underneath squinting at the surface, a new lunar vehicle was parked near the moon’s south pole to spend seven days testing for evidence of ice, which could be converted to water for crops and hydrogen for rocket fuel. The possibility would have seemed very far-fetched 100 years ago, when there were more-abundant views of the heavens and more people inclined to spend time observing them.

Our attitude toward the moon has changed from those days. It is less about adventure travel. We have been there, after all. It is not cheese. Instead, slightly disturbing, we imagine the moon (and Mars, if you are Elon Musk) as sanctuary in case, you know, we have to get off our planet. Good stewardship is really something we should be ready to carry with us when that time comes, if it does.

Which is an important reason to be grateful for the Francestown Land Trust’s and Conservation Committee’s evening Moonlight Hikes.

Jarvis Coffin writes fiction and essays on rural life. He is a retired media and advertising sales executive, and former chef/owner, with his wife, of New Hampshire’s oldest inn, the Hancock Inn. Reach him at huntspond@icloud.com, and keep up with all his musings at postcard-from-monadnock.ghost.io.