tmbt: dusk and dusk remembered
I think there are two most beautiful times of the day. Dawn and dusk. Just now, I am sitting at my keypad with a view of the dusky sunset and I am reminded instantly of childhood. They told us again and again, “Come home when it gets dark.” And dusk is when the first warning bells go off inside that it is nearly time to call all neighborhood shenanigans to an end for the day. It is at dusk that we realize any moment now the street lamps will come on and it will be time to pedal fast up the strip and onto the dirt path to the big house under the walnut trees. Pedal fast past the dark roots, past the mulberry tree with the old mattress lodged in its branches, past the garage and cars to slide in through the back doorway sweaty and bug-bitten, another summer day fully, if not well, spent. Pedal fast to the safety of the house as if something black truly were nipping at our heels. Pedal fast away from brushes with fate and love nearly captured this time. Pedal fast and try to forget the heartbreaks that pulled the sun down in the first place. Pedal fast enough and finally be the one to holler “Olly olly oxen free.”
Image by BJ.