Here, various birds descend to peck at scraps of food strewn upon the lawn. Swallows, cardinals, and crows alike flock to our varied offerings, meager sustenance for the nocturne.
On this particular evening, after an absence of many hours during the day, the sun deigned to appear. I sat on the stairs, and gazed at the brilliant light that played upon the high limbs of trees. The foreground provided an abundance of visual delight, as long-played roses bowed redolent buds, releasing aromatic petals upon the ground.
The light of sun played sporadically along the trees, leaves held heavy from rainfall, a morose presence against the onslaught of fevered wetness.
But with such a brief appearance of a nocturnal sun, the leaves seemed to sense the vibrancy inherent in such fleeting yet healing light, and managed to produce a magnificence to the encroaching nightfall. Glints of brilliance were visible.
Dusk approached, and with light fading fast, I sat very still and watched birds as they pecked patiently on the ground. The light faded, the sun disappeared. I sat, and marveled still at the flitting birds and insects, as they valiantly attempted to secure victuals for their respective offspring.
The nocturne arrived with purplish splendor, and scudding gray clouds slowly ventured to distant dark places. Only then did I stand to the opened screened door, clamping it shut tight behind me, and entered the house. Boo will have to wait.
I gazed out the kitchen windows, and witnessed a lone robin as it tugged at some unseen distended creature beneath the cover of grass.
Even here, in my own backyard, did wondrous visions await my eyes.
Perhaps you too, will find such treasures within your own lawn, replete with a setting sun and a rising crescent moon.
The nocturne holds many wonders to those who remain patient and open to the ethereal specter of the night.
Stay spellbound. The rewards of such visions are healing, and they bring to a soul bereft of such heavenly sights a sense of the infinite and the grandeur.
Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, A ll Rights Reserved.