To the Night.
19h44m BST: My inked words, on the page are barely visible, such is the twilight darkening fast. Each word now is a guess as I quickly write before the failing of the light. The crescent Moon casts light across the bay, a glittering pathway, a road of Luna sparkle, safely walked only with imagination. The bats fly by, hello - goodbye. 19h45m BST: No stars as yet, not a single solitary peep, I will have to take a closer look. Sure enough, at 19h48m BST there was Arcturus, out to the west, hanging above St David's head. On the beach before me a group of shadows shaped like sitting people - Buddhas, pondering no doubt their own cosmic wonders, hopes, dreams and such. 19h51m BST: My words, finally succumb, I no longer see what I'm writing, but I carry on for a little while with guesswork and memory. The sea waves sting the shoreline with a constant hiss from sand and brine. My tea cup is empty, my mind is empty. Welcome to the night.