Sitting outside on the farm, watching and listening to the night begin. It is the darkest part of dusk, but the day has not yet ended. There is still light to see across the fields. The day ends with a roll call of all the creatures up and down the Rio Grande. The dogs and coyotes start it and today it travelled north past me just before I saw the first bat come out. Along the way guineas, roosters, and anything else that feels like it chimes in. I think they are proclaiming their territory.
Then the first star comes out and the night begins...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Evan,
You clearly have a talent for writing. Your latest post flows so beautifully with words of the night beginning I felt almost as if I were sitting there beside you to hear and see the things you wrote about. Don't hesitate to develop those writing skills. Remember the great American novel has yet to be written.
Grandpa Snow
Hey Evan,
WOW! Grandpa Snow is dead on right. What a writing talent. I too felt like I was sitting there with you watching the darkness descent and listening to the sounds of the night. I sure wish I had had students like you in my writing classes (in my first career). Hope all is well for you; sounds like it is. What a wonderful adventure. Keep writing; we love it!
Ellen
Post a Comment