People are scared of the dark.
No really. They are.
People linger outside their homes, on hill tops, cliffs, anywhere with a view. They watch the sun set. The second it has been sucked below the horizon they vanish. They bustle off home as if the last rays of light leaving the sky will cause them to turn to stone and they must be behind closed doors before that happens....
Dusk is one of my favourite times of day.
The clouds turn charcoal grey, high in the sky. The sea turns the colour of slate. Hills in the middle distance turn inky black, the more distant they are, the less inky the black and the more gently they stand in the gloom. Flowers sprout across them, orange, white, yellow and red. Flowers that outcompete the stars and shine more brightly. They glisten.
It is still light enough to see the path. Walking slowly and steadily with care, rough paths don't pose a threat. The sun shines up from beneath the sea and paints the underside of the clouds. red, crimson, amethyst, dusky pinks. More beautiful than the sunset.
All those people leaving, miss this. They miss this gentle time. Caught in the inbetween. They run from the dark and miss the best of it.
I am not scared of the dark. I am sometimes a bit nervous of the people that hide in it. Tonight there is no moon. The moon won't rise until to late to be seen. And it is a new moon too. But walking under the full moon can be so well lit! Tonight it was always going to get dark but not as dark as people seem to think, nor as quickly.
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