A thickness of night. Coolness

smoothing over the yard, removing the

last remnants of day’s heat;

windows shut and sweaters appear.

The lakes dark surface humbles even

the brave. Inside, cabin lights extinguish

like falling stars. Night sounds filter

through aged screened windows.

The aroma of pine lingers

heavy in the air. Soft voices respect

those preparing for bed. Frogs call

out while fireflies descend into tall

grass. A baby stirs the air for a

moment. A door shuts. Night owns

the forest.




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