Eventide

Returned home fairly late yesterday from some necessary family commitments - such things are necessary even with a grown-up family.  Someone once told me that ‘children improve as they get older’ - THEY LIED! not that I mind in the least helping them out - It keeps me young (that’s what I keep telling myself anyway) especially my 2.5  years old grand-daughter who seems to have unlimited energy and an unlimited capacity for that ‘WHY’ word.

So, I’m home and the dog needs walking.  I’m surprised when I take her (at about 20.30hrs) that there is still considerable light, the sky is clear and the sun’s afterglow is bright in the west.

What suddenly struck me most forcibly though was the smell.  An evening smell of damp earth, some woodsmoke and just a hint of freshly cut grass.  There was a stillness that often seems to prevail in that Celtic ‘Time between Time’ - the half-hour before full sunset and the half-hour before sunrise.

A few late roosting birds were flitting to shelter and finally the local blackbirds began to sing the sun to bed.  In the slightly damp stillness their calls had a crystal bell-like quality.  A pigeon cooed and then all was silent and the darkness crept upon us.  Great 30 minutes with just my dog.  Simple enjoyment for the expenditure of so little effort to walk and smell and listen and feel.