Grace

I love this time of day, when the sun is just about to go down. All the sounds I hear are of preparation for night fall: people driving home for the evening after a day spent out in the sun, enjoying summer; squirrels running up and down the trees and across the fences, playing at burying winter treasure; insects singing about the heat of the day; children calling out to each other as they bike down the street. It’s as if the sun, by going down, is muting all activity, dulling the volume of life.

The sky is moving through its palette from pale blue, to soft grey, to mauve. The trees now stand out in relief against the heavens, losing the detail of their own colour but retaining the character of their shape, like black paper silhouettes.

As the air grows softer and the sky turns darker, crickets seem to move closer as they take first chair in the evening symphony, leading the chorus and dictating the tempo as living things ease into the subtle stealth of night.

This is the quiet time; the gentle time; the perfect time for reflection and grace: the eyes of all hope in You, oh Lord; You give them food in due season. You stretch out Your hand, and every creature receives Your blessing. Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised.