Thank God For The Night Time

That’s almost a certain Neil Diamond song.

And I know I’ll be regretting saying that later when up in that heat box of an attic of mine that I sleep in. Or, rather, attempt to sleep in.

Although it’s not exactly cool, at least there is some respite from the day’s fire out here.

I’ve been sitting here for a while, light fading, darkness falling. There’s a bat flitting around these gardens, and a large dragonfly, large enough to have made my daughter scream if she’d have been out here with me, passed determinedly by, maybe heading for a place to settle.

That’s provoked two questions. 1: Do bats always flit ? And 2: Where do dragonflies sleep? Just a couple of more things to keep me awake during this hot August month.

Just thought I’d check in and see how you guys are, warm or cold, in lockdown or post-lockdown.

I’ve heard we may have another storm heading our way.

Here’s hoping.

Manchester Hues; Evening Blues

Six-Shot Saturday

MORNING.
Web Fragments

Post-Frost Dissolves

Ethereal Swirl

Ice Table

AFTERNOON

Church Spire Rise

EVENING
Urban Dusk

Midsummer. Evening.

Everything still looks the same, but a line has been crossed.

Any change, any shift, will for a while be imperceptible. But things, as always happens, will gradually gather momentum until all is transformed.

“Time and tide wait for no man,” my father used to say.

They didn’t wait for him. He never attempted to outrun, or withstand. Once you reach a certain age, there is an air of inevitability about things. But there is no great hurry. We can live riding the rhythms of seasons, of tides.

The sun begins to set, it does not appear any different to the way it set last night, or the night before. But a person knows. That is our curse. But it is also a blessing.

Today has been a good day, shared with family and friends, and the things that count.

In the morning the rising sun will place another bead upon the abacus of the mortal man.

 

Local photograph by Drou Petrides