day is done...

well, almost. Did the shopping early this morning, did the laundry, aired out the bedspread, cleaned the house, watched some basketball and now it's time to relax. It's that time of the rolling year when the sun is moving further north and the orange light of it's setting now comes in the front windows of the parlor and the dining hall, bathing the manor in that hue that I love so much. Sheba the Hound from Heck is fast asleep, curled up in her bed by the parlor stove; the cats are snoozing here and there - on the sofa, in the bay window and the upstairs landing. The manor is quiet, except for the classical music wafting in from the dining hall and my pecking on the keyboard. The candles are all alight, ready for the inevitable approaching dark. It's taking a little longer to get dark these days, the twilight hangs on just a little longer now. Instead of the day going down to dark in that sudden dying of the light, it now fights back a bit, rallying against the night, throwing up a battle bathed in the colors of it's warrior standards; orange, then blue, then deep deep violet, before it, too, succumbs to the holy dark. Then, like a tired warrior on the field of honor, it retreats, knowing that it will, through virtue and valor, be back to fight the night with the coming of the new day.
Now, it's time to put away the tasks of the day, to settle into the comfy chair, with book and glass and candle, to recount the moments of the day, to think of the day ahead, to be with one's self and those you love and who love you. And, so it is I shall spend the evening, until sleep overtakes me and dreams weave the fabric of my sleep. I will wrap myself in that sometimes sometime soft, sometimes coarse cloak of dreams and wander anew in that world that I know only in my dreams, where I can stand free in the fields of the Nephilim, or lay beside the running waters, graced with tunes from the pipes of Pan. Dreams are, alas, that door through which we may visit our past, not our personal past, but our human past, when we were one with the gods and the goddess. I am never afraid to dream...
And so, as night comes full on, I bid thee a fine and hallowed eve, my fellow wanderers. Fare thee well.
what say you..?


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