Evening

Evening settles in the yard, the sun withdraws from every corner. Now is the twilight time. Most of the wildbirds have found their nests and roosts, cozying down with their mates on leafy branches or hidey holes. The only natural sound right now are the robins calling to one another. Still too early in the season for the summer night symphony; those crickets, tree frogs, katydids and other night singers.

This is the first true, warm evening. A soft warmth drifts around the yard, as shadows form, darkness closing in. A cooling breeze glides by and the new, large green leaves rustle and shake. The pine trees hold their needles tightly while the tiny green pine cones inch a bit larger, growing unseen, minute by minute.

Clouds that were gilded gold, bronze, pink just minutes before fade slowly into the darkening sky. A sky that will soon be velvety in its black expanse. Perhaps there will be the twinkling scene above if the the clouds break apart, allowing a clear view. A glimpse of Moon would be a welcome sight.

Quietly and quickly, the night arrives. Time to close the day, whether it was good or bad. The morning will come soon enough. For now, the night is here to comfort, to settle, to calm, to restore, to inspire. Good evening becomes good night.

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