Academic journal article Hecate

Night Comes

Academic journal article Hecate

Night Comes

Article excerpt

And so. . . . It's come to this. A parting from the day.

as evening begins to come.

And the sun sends shards of light spearing through trees. Casting dull shadows that stretch long into others.

Across the timeless hills in their gentle folds. Across the empty, droughted paddocks, lit yellow, tea weak and dreaming on, in this basin of my valley.

'Farewell' a dog barks somewhere and a cat leaps up and balances, swaying the thread of a fence.

As the essence of a diminishing day creeps into colours. Vibrant are the blood tips of the mango leaves and the greenness of the heavy, waiting fruit on my Mandarin.

Away, is the thunder of a far truck across a dirt road, a rumbling assault on this fledgling night. Someone is still at work longer than they have the right to be.

For even horses cease their chewing to stand paused in silent salute to the going of this day.

The air is still. All is expectant . . . hushed.

The light brightens momentarily, in a promise it can never really keep. So that a cock crows, confused by endings and beginnings and a distant blackbird wings, away and away.

Night noises stir restlessly and whisper.

Far off, someone calls a joke, a whistle, a laugh. To echo with a hollow ring and the bell of a bird call resounds through the valley 'Goodbye, goodbye to this day.'

Kookaburras too, start their song but cease in sudden unison as if the joke is over now. …

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