Saturday, March 4, 2017


     This is my favorite time of the day.  Dusk.  It is the time whereby I may put away the business, the hurried tasks, the things which have occurred during the course of day: rushed early mornings, long hours worked, family cared for.  Dusk is the time to file the day away and prepare for a tucking in, for a saying goodbye to that day. 
     On this night, the sky is lit by the pinks, purples and blues reserved for a Texas sunset. The clouds are wisps of white; like the cotton on that favorite tee shirt which is soft to the touch.
      I go for a walk at this time, every night. I take my dog, Sadie, with me.  Being true to the Beagle that she is, she sniffs the newly mown grass for those scents only she will recognize. She takes a drink from the pool of water left on the sidewalk from the lawn sprinkler earlier that day. She looks at me as if she is pleased she has found this treasure.
      As it typical in early March in north Texas, it is warm but not hot.  There is a slight breeze that cools my neck.  When I get home, I put my feet up and rest. It is time for winding down. I have a half bottle of wine which sits beside my favorite glass on a round table beside my chair. The wine glass has a chip in it from years ago, when Sadie, then a rambunctious puppy, knocked it to the floor. Somehow that flaw makes the wine taste better. The chipped glass evokes memories from when both Sadie and I were younger. The wine sits on the table beside a stack of my favorite books.  These books are not downloaded to my tablet to read, nor when I read them do I play music in the background. For me, it seems disrespectful somehow, not to give these books my full attention. The authors did not write them so that the reader could briefly scan the words, then hurriedly move on.
     Periodically a quote will resonate with me. I allow myself to pause and quiet my mind so I may think about the quote.  “What did Hemingway mean by this?  Who was his audience?” I hope not only to gain a better understanding of the work, but also to become a better writer myself by reading, by digesting these words.
     Time invariably goes quickly as is usually the case when doing things we enjoy. I look out the window and am always surprised that dusk has surrendered to night.  I have these things beside me: the books, the chipped wine glass, Sadie and the night. These things are my companions as  I say a private “thank you” for the gift of another day.