The Rising of the Dusk

The Rising of the Dusk a hurry home hour this sill of winter just one step away from the revealing white of snow. a change surreptitiously invades the way, as landscape morphs before a weary traveller trudging there dusk a preamble to the dark of night. seemingly it rises from the ground and clings to shapes of tree and rock whose bright face remains to the west. a silent battle ensues between. trees become their skeletal nemesis. long branches, grasping fingers clacking in the cold air that filters through bent and twisted bodies bare of softening silken green boulders could be the hunched shoulders of ancient ogres cursed long ago, by Merlin, buried by the wayside they once hunted for lone travellers at sun down. The rising dusk is the progenitor of many tales told from inn to home. cautionary stories about the difference brought on by the coming of dark.