I love this time of day when the world feels drowsy and everything slows. The wind has slipped away and the trees stop their swaying. The birds, weary from their labor, have ceased their singing and settled in for the night. The deer quietly make an appearance - gathering under the old oaks.
I stand watching the sun color the sky with extravagant hues and remember the evenings of my childhood - begging mom to let me stay outside “just five minutes more,” longing to hold back the night.
“This evening is as brief as the twinkling of an eye yet such twinklings is what eternity is made of.” Fred Rogers