In the early evening I like to sit at the front of our house reading or just sitting as the last of the days sun sinks behind the hill opposite. We are on the edge of the village with just a few neighbours so its very peaceful especially at this time of day.
As the sun dips behind the hill
The last rays are warm on my skin
Muted sounds rise up from the village
People on their way home from work
Voices in the distance, ordinary sounds
That wash over me
Leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Leaves rustling, wood pigeons cooing
Soothing my heavy emotions.
The jarring sounds of crows
Heading home to roost
Interrupts the growing stillness.
The sun disappears and the sky
Turns from hot blue to cool.
Vapour trails from a distant plane disect
The cloudless sky but do not linger.
As night descends the village settles
Into its quiet time.
Shutters closed, fires lit
Time to reflect.
Awake in the soft darkness of the night
Hearing nothing but the shallow breathing by my side
Watching grey light seep through the shutters
Listening for the first sounds from the village
Waiting for the slow dawn of a new day.