Dusk is my favorite time of day. Have I ever shared that with anyone, I wonder? The setting sun lends softness to the surroundings, and everywhere, people are entering their homes and reaching under lampshades to match that orange glow. It is the time for soft piano music and sautéed onions, quiet play with blocks and cars.* By this time, no one is adding to their lists, and if hasn’t been done yet, it won’t happen. It is the hour of conceding and of a little glass of wine. Driving through Nebraska dusk is my favorite, through the cornfields and farms surrounding my hometown. Mile by square mile, one-hundred-eighty degrees of sky for viewing pleasure, music to match. Dusk announces the coming end of the day, and a time to be at home, be quiet, be together, before sleep. I have permission to slow down, to stop even, and rest mind and body.
“The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonders; where morning dawns, and evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.” Psalm 65:8
*This last part is somewhat of a vision I am conveying, much more than a reality. Very rarely does dusk announce a period of stillness for my children, as they are usually seen throwing the couch cushions down to the floor and screaming at each other as they jump. I can still dream!