The Last Dimming Hour
There’s a hushed, eerie quietness, restful, unknown.
All sheep are silent, the song birds have flown.
This veil of first twilight, creeping, in peace,
The yawning day’s ending; its happy release.
A tired gale disturbs not a solitary leaf,
Its soft, breezy nature, a stealthy, calm thief.
Stolen sounds drifting from bright summer days,
Vanishing, breathless, in mirage-less haze.
Sun-drenched, stained skies glower; red, pinky peach,
Fading to grey during eve’s dying reach.
No time for adieu, no candle to light,
The last dimming hour has turned swiftly to night.
Fear not the threats from loose, blackened drapes,
As shadows lurk, surly, in dark hedgerow shapes.
Devoid of true colour, dusk’s fast changing scene,
Smothers the smouldering, lush velveteen.
26th August 2019
The nights are noticeably drawing in quite quickly.
One day, this week, I went out for my walk slightly later than usual, catching the ending of a lovely sunset. But it was so, unusually, quiet. No sounds from the wind blowing through trees & hedges, no birds, sheep, cows, nothing! By the time I was on the home strait, it was dark enough for me to switch my torch on. Not only to make me more visible to any passing motorists, but because I’d spotted some tiny frogs/toads, jumping about on the road, and didn’t want to tread on them!
Walks will have to start a little earlier, methinks. I missed all those sounds of the countryside!
Apologies for my recent absence from commenting on other folks posts. I’d been having very annoying & frustrating issues with my WordPress site, that we just couldn’t sort out (long story, I won’t bore you with,) which is now, happily, fixed!