the night is misty and damp and dark. too clouded with humidity to see the moon. the streets are heavy and pungent. they smell of honeysuckle. and climbing roses. lemon balm and grass. thick green smells. i came home from the bookstore a little after 10. and edgar and i wandered down to the darkened park that overlooks the harbor. the grass long and dewy. wet, really.we passed neighborhood homes with windows sleepily lit. and our little stone house almost swallowed by the front meadow. hollyhocks growing up the walls. and other plants, some identified and others not, crowding the plot that leads to our front door. waist high in spots. it makes me giddy to see it, i love it so. i love it's misunderstood beauty.
this night is shadowy and gothic, like a victorian novel. still and silent. shrouded.
Your posts are always find with such wonderful sensory images--I can feel the mist and smell the honeysuckle. I think you live in one of the most special places on earth.
ReplyDeleteThis is just beautiful!
ReplyDeleteOh what a sweet dream send off...
ReplyDeleteNight night
Txo
beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful description of the night.
ReplyDeletethank you.....it was a beautiful night!
ReplyDeleteTaking the time to connect with the essence of every moment.. something we ought to do more often yes? How satisfying when you can recall a moment that simply IS... mainly because you were truly present. Sacred... shared and treasured. Thank you. xx
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