When the sun’s last blush is fading and evening prepares for nightfall, the usual quietness here becomes a noticeable hush. The birds that have busily flittered and twittered around all day suddenly react as if a signal has declared their bedtime.
Trees blacken in silhouette. Mist from the marsh beyond them begins to rise against a distant hill and the air freshens with nighttime earthiness. One by one, tree frogs begin their chorus.
As darkness settles in, I begin writing.
When is your favourite time to begin your day’s writing?
“… and the land was wide, and quiet, and peaceable…”
[1 Chronicles 4:40b]