“Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery
I took this photo on a drive home from my parents at dusk tonight. This usually lazy, gurgling stream was very high, (due, we believe, to a beaver dam), and the night sounds of sleepy birds, playful crickets, and the slow trickle of water was hypnotising. The day had been cloudy and humid, and as we passed my beloved Three Mile Brook, the sun peeked below the cloud cover and turned the brook to molten brass. What a wonderful way to end the day.
I took more photos of some early fall color that I’ll share tomorrow. :)