dusk, Pontyberem

I started my daily post today at the end of the long day. I was sitting at my desk looking out of the window at a piece of the after-sunset sky, and I was thinking what can I possibly share by this point in this day? I am depleted, all shared out. I don’t have something to give that would be generous.

So I just opened the sash and I climbed out of the window and I sat on the flat roof with my back to the wall of the house, and I looked out to the west.

I started to listen. First I heard a sparrow in my roof calling. Then there was the song of a blackbird. After that the crows started up in the woods and flying, fussing and settling, their calls echoing across the back gardens. I wondered whether there were bats flying, and I started to watch the wide sky fading behind the woods and the first stars coming through. The light high clouds were streaking and spreading out to the west. I started to feel the cold autumn air on my bare feet, and I noticed that the smell of it was autumn. I started to notice the ordinary sounds of the street, and the lighted windows shining out of the night houses. I started to feel myself at home in my body, in the world.

I climbed back in the window and closed it behind me.