As the Evening Blooms

There are moments when one simple thing–the appearance of its shadow under a boat in a clear lake, kids on the playground chanting a silly song, the smell of potatoes roasting in the oven as you walk in the door at the end of the day–stops you in your tracks with a pang of intense gratitude. You’re filled with wonder that something you may have seen or heard or felt a thousand times before can suddenly arrest you and fill you with such an unmitigated thrill. Your internal sky clears, and you remember how it felt to believe without question in today, in tomorrow.

digital imageOne of the situations that is most able to evoke such potent magic for me is that sweet transitional time when dusk is just about to fall. I’ll be going along the road on the way home, and the peculiar slant of the light makes every color twice as brilliant and saturated as it ought to be, and the clarity of the view seems to intensify so that I feel certain if I looked I could see individual grass-leaves at a hundred yards, maybe even the gossamer lacewing perched on a single blade. I open the window of the car and think that the robin warbling its evensong could be two miles distant and I would hear it just as sharply in its unimpeded clarity, maybe even a hundred miles. Have I fallen into a miracle myself? Become some sort of supernal being?digital painting

No, but at this hour and in this light, the new, dense tapestry of wild spring greens lining the side of the road becomes a moment closer to the perfection of heaven’s glow and I feel as though I myself might just take wing. As the evening starts to fall, this glow is rich with grace and filled with dreams of coming good and present hope. And along with every little else, I know that this beautiful glorious nothing of a thing will happen another time, and not when it will come or what it means, only that life is loaded up with marvelous moments of sweet and poignant joy.

18 thoughts on “As the Evening Blooms

  1. Dearest Kathryn, Your words allowed me to step into that moment with you, and to enjoy your beautiful sharing. I’ll enjoy the dawns light at this moment, just a little differently, thank-you, so much Mands

    • How sweet of you, dear Mands! It’s certainly one of the joys of blogging that I am allowed to spend ‘quality time’ with people around the globe vicariously, traveling alongside them in *their* writings and images, and when I’m fortunate, bringing others along with me too. I’m so pleased that this one touched you in that way, as your imagery so often does me!
      xoxo
      Kathryn

    • I am told that Spaniards have a particular gift for this, when it’s possible, this savoring of the present. It must have rubbed off on you long since! Certainly your descriptions of your parties give me that feeling. 🙂

    • Likewise, I always feel so much as though I’m trailing in your footsteps at your blog, whether around the village or in the kitchen, and it suffuses me with happiness. 🙂
      Kathryn

  2. I have this week – twice, mind you, – been so enthralled by the frogsong from a local pond that I nearly missed my turn home. A turn I’ve been making for nearly ten years now…
    An “It Is Well With My Soul” moment. Thanks for sharing yours…

    • Perfectly said, Marie! You just reminded me of an excellent froggy moment of my own, when we were with a few friends on a winery tour in Oregon and thought we heard donkeys braying; the vintner laughed hard and pointed down to the pond below us where the bullfrogs were in full amorous voice! I guess it was *really* well (and well-deep) with *their* little amphibian souls! 🙂

  3. “…..and not when it will come or what it means, only that life is loaded up with marvelous moments of sweet and poignant joy.”
    So beautifully put!
    And that is when they are all the more sweeter because they come unbidden and therefore are pure. There are no intentions nor any expectations. They simply are. A gift.

  4. That evening light is so special. It is the most magical time. I’m always happy to be driving then and in the right direction and I can see it for miles.

  5. Oh, what a beautifully grateful post, Kathryn! I am a dusk-lover too, by the way.

    ‘As the evening starts to fall, this glow is rich with grace and filled with dreams of coming good and present hope. And along with every little else, I know that this beautiful glorious nothing of a thing will happen another time, and not when it will come or what it means, only that life is loaded up with marvelous moments of sweet and poignant joy.’

    Reading that made me feel quite emotional…in a good way.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s