Dusk
An enchanting twilight tale
A spontaneous late afternoon hike with friends led to this precipice above the Hollywood sign just moments after the sun dipped below the horizon and the waxing crescent moon revealed itself.
There is something so utterly magical about the interlude between sunset and nightfall when every sound in nature seems to hold its breath.
Crickets commence their nightly song upon nature’s exhalation. Darkness quickly ensues. The temperature drops.
Critters scuttle about in the underbrush as we make our way downhill in the quickly fading light. Now is not the time to linger for nocturnal creatures are stalking about.
Someone makes a joke about serial killers.
P-22, the mountain lion, roves these hills, I say, wondering if he’s in the vicinity, watching, waiting.
A sudden cascade of rocks tumbles down a darkened slope right beside the trail. We quicken our pace.
Hearts a flutter. Imaginations run amok. Shrieks of laughter.
Breathless, we arrive at the car.
“Now the soft hour
Of walking comes, for him who lonely loves
To seek the distant hills, and there converse
With Nature, there to harmonize his heart,
And in pathetic Song, to breathe around
The harmony to others.”– from The Four Seasons: Summer by James Thomson
