I love the sounds the night makes.
The birds that start singing, calling their young ones and mates back home. The parents that call for offspring because dinner is being served. And that last train East bound, rumbles and whistles to clear the tracks, as the sun starts to set.
The few hours of silence as some settle in for the night and others awaken for it. The bushes that rustle as night stalkers make their way through. The hoot owl and screech owl calling out, as if to say “did you see that?”
The packs of coyotes in separate areas that say to each other “that’s your hunting ground, this is MINE”.
The stars and moon that shine light on the nocturnal, that can’t be seen during the day.
That lonely low key whisper of the 3 am train that travels through towns hoping to go unnoticed.
The porch light that comes on because the family pet said it should, and you peer through the window wondering “is someone or something out there, or did you really have to pee again?”
Then the final hour, when it’s the darkest before dawn. When everything has found its place and nighttime moves along. The silence then is deafening. A much welcomed reprieve from the daylight that surrounded you and noise that never seems to leave.
I marvel at the sunrise and its arrogance to think that it was there faster, but first the darkness had to blink.
RaenellDawn 04/13/2017
