The Dark Part of the Day

It is dark around here, this time of year.

Like, four o'clock-getting-dark.

It's anathema to those of us who, in the summer, go to the beach at four o'clock because that's just when it starts gettin' good.

But Mistah and I learned a long time ago that we cannot accept four o'clock as nighttime. It's black as night, yes. But four o'clock is not nighttime. It is, instead, the Dark Part of the Day.

And before it gets dark? Well, it's light.

I mean, it's not light light, but it's a little bit light.

And that light -- as fleeting and tenuous as it is these days -- does pretty and dramatic things to the world . . .

 . . . to the last of the leaves . . .

. . . and to the clouds in the big blue sky.

It's a challenge these days, when four o'clock comes around . . .

. . . but when night does fall? And sticks around for hours and hours and hours?

Well, at least the Big Dipper come out to play . . .