After sunset, the woods around us grow quiet. Dusk descends like a muffling snowfall, silently subduing the day. There will still be light in the marsh, but the trail to it is dark, and recent wildlife activity makes it a wee bit too menacing for a walk in that direction.
I lean on the deck rail and watch a single robin and starling make their last rounds of the lawn for bedtime snacks. What an odd pair. A towhee lands on the clematis trellis and perches for a few moments, keeping an eye on me, ever hopeful that I will recant and put out the bird feeder again. Sorry, little fella, but it won’t reappear until winter does.
As daylight’s murmurs subside, nighttime’s begin. Two chirps from hidden tree frogs set off more, and soon a chorus swells in the marsh. Every night their evensong canticles overlay the hush of darkness.
The coming weekend promises summer-like heat, but there are still enough remnants of springtime’s chill to start shivers dancing across my shoulders, and eventually chase me indoors. With the words, “It is well with my soul” running through my mind, I slip inside and slide the patio doors closed behind me.
Eventide at Wildwood is complete.
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