Dusk

Dusk is the sweetest time of day. The coolness as the sun hides behind the horizon, the breeze gently caressing your neck as you walk. The birds sing intermittently, breaking the silence. Everything seems muted, softer, almost warmer and more welcoming. The moisture in the ground has a fragrance that mixes cooly with the fragrance of the dropped catalpa blossoms. The blossoms so exquisite in their delicacy. Or the autumn dusk that holds a certain crispness, accompanied by the soft rustling of leaves. Dusk has a level of intimacy as you must pull closer to see, fooled by the light and softening of corners. There is magic being caught by dusk and not yet wrapped by the darket blanket of night.