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Far from the scurry of the workaday world - the rat-race even rats won’t run - I stop at the edge of a quiet wood enthralled by the setting sun. By the dappled effect of the evening rays there, by the creek, through the trees. By the thought that we stumble through most of our days without cherishing moments like these. The birds settle into their nests for the night with the rustle of fluttering wings. The cricket bids all sweet dreams at the height of each trilling melody that he sings. The sky is clad in her most elegant gown - shades of pink, violet, orange and gold. Easing slowly down the sun touches the ground with a brilliance magnificent to behold. Gently sinking away and out of my vision, relinquishing the world to moonlight, the sun, with her graceful yet careless precision, vanishes without a sound from my sight. |