A cool mist flows over Little Elk Mountain and the moon is the only light for miles. In late Summer and Early fall the singing of frogs is replaced by sound of katydids.
Of in the distance the screech owls are holding congress squabbling over who gets the territory. For a while their cries of “who” echo through the forest and fade into the night. Several hound dogs begin to bay at the Moon as it rises into the sky and peeks through the trees. I begin to miss the voice of the whip-poor-will from my childhood. In the distance the whistle of a train running along the river breaks pattern of natural sounds.
I gaze at moon myself as the night sounds surround me. My eyes grow heavy while watching the silvery light filter through my bedroom window. My final thought is “Moon beams bring sweet dreams”. No longer able to hold my eyes open, I drift off to sleep with nature singing my lullaby.
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The soft evening light draws me westward. The golden lines lead me home. Twilight is such a magical time. In the transitional light shadows dance to tune of the whippoorwill and coyote. Heaven’s door opens as angels march out. They go to and fro to the corners of the world in a changing of the guard. Their orders are to watch over the faithful. And if need be, escort them home to rest if one’s work is done. As the setting sun goes over the horizon the golden hue shifts to a crimson glow. It is a reminder of the price paid and the seal set. Travel on and follow the road. Home is just beyond the next horizon.
Tonight’s image was taken in Nicholas County West Virginia. It is Route 129 across the Summerville dam. As I was looking at this picture the yellow lines made think about the golden rule, the narrow path and the way to my heavenly home.
The hot summer sun slowly sinks into the West and I can feel the coolness of the night sweep across the Lake. On the other shore near the sunset I can hear the doors of cars shutting as the engines pur to life and the swimmers make their way home. The smell of food cooked over an open flame lingers in the air. Small birds begin to skim across the water catching insects. The bird songs soon give way to the chirping of crickets and the occasional sound of a treefrog close to the shore. Deeper into the woods the hair raising cry of a screech owl rings out as he challenges his rivals for territory. Soon the evening star raises over the mountains signaling an end to the day. The headlights of my big blue truck come to life when I use the remote to unlock the door. It’s time to ease back up the gravel road and go process the images of the day.
I look out over the Kanawha River in the evening as old Sol closes his sleepy eyes. The softening light melts into a deep blue leaving an icy chill in it’s wake. The blue night has arrived. Small flickering lights beckon the people of the city to come home for a warm fire and a good meal. The river holds a garden of gnarly empty branches as if a mirror world lies just below the surface. I take one last look at the silhouette of mirror world and begin my own journey home with only the blue night and flickering lights to guide me.
Image was taken in Kanawha County of the Kanawha River and overlooking Kanawha City.