Dusk is electric with the loose ends of the day, discarded they feed the ochre ball of fire as it descends gracefully onto another’s adventure.
A burst of summer rain does nothing to cool the mood, the heat of the day has past but the tempo of the street continues to climb. Ambient lighting filtering through the trees, washing over mingling crowds that mingle and merge with differing destinations. The cruisers radio’s share variety and passion, an occasional horn neither urgent nor hateful.
The clatter of plates, a celebratory chink to commence an evening or a stiff full stop to close another challenging week. A taste of the orient seasoning the air, the sizzle of tradition waters the mouths of a line of anticipation. Suits squeeze past aiming for a dinner at the end of a new journey.
Heels & ties loosen, buttons undo as the traffic disperses leaving dwellers of the night in peace. The transition is complete only when the hustle of waves folding onto the sand breakthrough. A brave few seek answers from the glorious blue moon at the water’s edge, their shadows secretly hidden on the beach.
Dusk holds promise in the air, another day is over but the next is a full night time away. The breath of the days wisdom has filtered through our lungs, Dusk is the respite that allows it to marinate our hearts. Born is the night through fortunes of the day.