It’s Wednesday evening, a little after 6:00. I’m sitting on my deck with the laptop and the sun is still bright behind me. But the temperature is getting cooler. I know the night is coming. There was a lot of wind earlier today but it is quiet and still here now, as if the air itself is a bit tired and ready to sleep.
Our bird feeders are largely empty except for some doves, which are evening feeders. I hear them calling in the distance and sometimes I call back to them. And now and then I see a Cardinal or Blue Jay dropping in for a last sunflower snack before bedtime. The day is closing up for most of the birds as well.
There is just a hint of yellow in the light over my shoulder, the yellow that to me will always be a mark of evening. I love this time of day. And yet it often makes me a bit melancholy. I cannot say why rationally. The feeling is deeper than that, and I have to wonder if it is not some genetic remnant from a time when night was the bad time, the time of teeth and claws and hunger.
Tonight will not be a bad time. I will eat good food and will have Lana here with me. And later, I hope I will write well. I hope, also, that all of you will be safe from the teeth tonight, and that you will have those things around you that give you satisfaction.
Let the night close in. But may it not close upon you.