SUNSET AND DUSK IN THE VALLEY

2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate DUSK. The sun has gone down over to the west behind the Hill. Autumn is sweet in the sub-tropics . Later tonight the Moon will come up over the Pacific Ocean and the cows are likely to let loose down in the paddock. Kate and Les’ new dog is apt to bark until they come home from the Bilambil Sports Club and whatever it is that lives in the bottom paddock above the road and the mangoes will start in to shrieking – AFTER DUSK. HE will come home from the Boss’ panelbeating shop where they are rehearsing STICKY GRASS PUDDING for the WINTERMOON in Far North Queensland. DUSK LEADS TO UNSEEN THINGS.

Out in a world of death far to the northward lying,
Under the sun and the moon, under the dusk and the day;
Under the glimmer of starts and the purple of sunsets dying,
Wan and waste and white, stretch the great lakes away.

Never a bud of spring, never a laugh of summer,
Never a dream of love, never a song of bird;
But only the silence and white, the shores that grow chiller and dumber,
Wher’ever the ice winds sob, and the griefs of winter are heard.

Crags that are black and wet out of the grey lake looming,
Under the sunset’s flush and the pallid, faint glimmer of dawn;
Shadowy, ghost-like shores, where midnight surfs are booming
Thunders of wintry woe over the spaces wan.

Wifred Campbell, The Winter Lakes

Heat lingers
As days are still long;
Early mornings are cool
While autumn is still young.
Dew on the lotus
Scatters pure perfume;
Wind on the bamboos
Gives off a gentle tinkling.
I am idle and lonely,
Lying down all day,
Sick and decayed;
No one asks for me;
Thin dusk before my gates,
Cassia blossoms inch deep.

Po Chu-i (772-864), Autumn Coolness
Translated by Howard S. Levy and Henry Wells

“At all seasons the coming of dusk has its spell upon the imagination. Even in cities it puts something of silence into the turmoil, something of mystery into the commonplace aspect of the familiar and the day-worn. The shadow of the great change that accompanies the passage of day is as furtive and mysterious, as swift and inevitable, amid the traffic of streets as in aisles of the forest, or in glens and on hills, on shores, or on the sea. It is everywhere the hour of suspense. Day has not receded into the confused past, already a shadow in eternity, and night has not yet come out of the unknown. Instinctively one feels as though crossing an invisible bridge over a gulf, perchance with troubled glances at the already dimming shore behind, or with dreaming eyes or watchful or expectant gaze on the veiled shore upon which we are almost come.”
From The Coming Of Dusk by Fiona Macleod

Po Chu-Yi

At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall;
At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall.
For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go…
They are all gone and I do not mind at all!
I have done with that cumbrous washing and getting dry;
My tiresome comb is forever laid aside.
Best of all, when the weather is hot and wet,
To have no top-knot weighing down on one’s head!
I put aside my messy clothy wrap;
I have got rid of my dusty tasselled fringe.
In a silver jar I have stored a cold stream,
On my bald pate I trickle a ladle full.
Like on baptized with the Water of Buddha’s Law,
I sit and receive this cool, cleansing joy.
Now I know why the priest who seeks Repose
Frees his heart by first shaving his head

I’ve known rivers ancient as the world
And older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.

I built my hut near the Congo and it Lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi
when Abe Lincoln went down to New
Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy bosom
turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul; has grown deep like the rivers.
Langston Hughes

The Book of Werewolvesby Sabine Baring-Gould
(1834-1924)

Thord and his companion were opposed to Skallagrim in the game, and they were too much for him, he wearied, and the game went better with them. But at dusk, after sunset, it went worse with Egill and Thord, for Skallagrim became so strong that he caught up Thord and cast him down, so that he broke his bones, and that was the death of him.

A Blessing for the Day

FROM THE WRITERS FORUM

May the God of the dawn awaken you
May the God of sunrise stir you up
May the God of morning bless your work
May the God of noon renew your strength
May the God of sunset bring you home
May the God of dusk soothe your soul
May the God of night bring you rest.

© Adapted from a blessing by ~Andrew Greeley

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