Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Suburban Sunset

The evening was still,
with scarcely enough breeze to ruffle the washing.
It is too late,
it will not dry now,
but optimistically I had still pegged it out,
despite knowing that the evening dew
will only delay the drying process.
From the safety of their hiding places,
sparrows alternate,
between objecting to my presence,
and expressing their spontaneous joy.
Overhead insect hunting birds perform
outrageous acrobatic manoevers,
swooping and turning,
twisting and diving,
while the sky gradually darkened,
the cloudscape constantly changing,
like a huge kaleidoscope,
dark to the left and light to the right.
Heavy rainfall is due
between midnight and 9:00am,
and again later in the day.
I know how quickly the weather can change,
but as I stand in the garden, enjoying the still warmth of the evening,
I found it hard to believe that all this will change.
A list of awaiting tasks stretches out before me,
but I feel no sense of urgency to move
as I stand and watch as day
gradually gives way
to night.
For this sight
is here now,
in this moment.
Which I can either savour,
or squander.
For these moments
will not be repeated.