Dusk is reaching out its obscuring fingers to the mountain and the birds begin to gather in excitement.
All around me, activity is increasing, it seems they are exerting one last effort at the end of this day.
Then at that final moment of disappearance, there is a sudden cessation to movement and song.
As darkness rises the first far off calls of the night birds may be heard. Nightingales, owls, and nightjars are preparing for their moonlit lives.
This time of mixing of day and night, light and dark, is a precious time and was long revered by our ancestors.