Dusk

This January day in Georgia started with sheets of sideways rain and rolls of thunder, but ended with gentle, clear sunlight.

Now:
Trees crowd the sky like silent judges in the pale orange and blue dusk. The moon, waxing gibbous.

I pause a moment at the curb before taking the mail from the box and notice the soft, damp air on my face.

On the walk back down the driveway I see the white lights dotting the Norfolk pine in the window.

Mindfulness Writing, Small Stones #11,
Writing Our Way Home.

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