Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Eveningtime by Kat Magendie

There is a business to the coming of eveningtime. First, the critters who sleep away the night are up to last minute feeding, or nesting, or whatever their duty calls them to do. Then, there are the night critters beginning to stir from their hidey places so when it turns dark, they can go about the business of finding food, and drink, and each other. Same with people: winding down the day, or those who just begin to start theirs.

I am sitting in my library typing this--oh and my library is quite tender and small, but it is full of books. Books are squeezed in every space they can be filled unless there is something else that needs to be clear of books: like chairs, the floor, a table with a lamp, doo dads and rocks and old albums and photographs and this computer and a dog bed and...so on it goes. And as I sit, I hear the first cricket. It is an eveningtime that brings back to me memories of when I was a girl, running barefooted, hating to hear my mother call out, "Time to come in! Kids! In! Now!" And we kids would trudge in, our feet dirty; in fact, every surface of our body and clothing dirty, tangled hair, fingernails filled with dirt from digging for treasures. Then, as now, the crickets would start their conversations. If we were lucky, the fireflies, or lightening bugs, would just begin to flash...that is, if we'd delayed going inside by hollering out to our mother, "Five more minutes, please!" Five more minutes always meant "until Mother gets mad and says, 'I'm not telling you again! Time to come in!'" Stampede home, all the dirty feet flying to suppers, baths, errant homework, bed.

But now, right now is the eveningtime of my life here and now. I sit in this library overstuffed with books and listen to the right-before-dark descend. There is a pause, a moment on the brink, and before I have time to wonder at being on the cusp of something wonderful and nostalgic, the dark falls, heavy and soft all at the same time. How can I forget gratitude when I am in the eveningtime?

5 comments:

Terri Tiffany said...

I well remember summer nights playing outside till dark with the neighborhood kids-- and chasing the fireflies. What a sweet memory!Thank you!

Joanne said...

I like the richness of color in the evening, when the sun sits low in the sky. It's a quiet time that evokes many memories.

Barbara Quinn said...

How warm and lovely spending time with you in your eveningtime. :-)

Patresa Hartman said...

Oh, i love that you call it the BUSINESS of eveningtime, b/c it does seem so busy, doesn't it? Just a couple of nights ago, i turned off the lights and headed to bed. with all the house sounds off, i had to stop and put my ear to the a/c vent in the wall. something was buzzing so loudly and fiercely that it sounded mechanical. it sounded like the a/c had been left on when i was sure it was off. finally, after wandering the walls and trying to find this loud loud loud buzz, i realized it was the bugs outside!

Angie Ledbetter said...

Beautiful! Had lots of nights in the driveway and with neighbors this past "Gustav" week, and it brought back the same kind of memories.

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