We took a walk last night at Dusk.
There is no more melancholy time than the time of dusk. That time when day has ended but night is not yet come.
I love dusk.
Dusk – when the Call to Prayer goes out over the city in Cairo, a cacophony echoing from minaret to minaret. Dusk – when birds raise their chorus in Shikarpur, and the smell of smoky fires permeates the air. Dusk – when the sunsets in Phoenix make your breath stop and you marvel at the sky, even more so at the Creator of all Color. Dusk – when the sun sets over the Atlantic Ocean and there is no better response than awe.
When heaven meets earth in excruciating longing and a holy ache; when I know that I am created for more; when all is Grace at the end of the day. This is Dusk.
These next few months I will have dusk. Every evening the warm day glow of summer will end and night will come with dusk in between.
The sky will meet the ocean in Chartreuse, blue, turquoise and purple and I will be watching.