You and I have arrived out west. The days have been so busy that we didn't make it till early evening. There's just time for a barefoot walk, out on the dunes. We walk out in this big open space, wondering if we'll make it to the lake. Then, sensing that the light is fading, we turn around, and discover what nature has been doing behind our backs.
Not a soul is in sight. Just the wind gently rippling the dune grasses as we pad over the hard sand,
letting go of all the activity, the busyness, and drifting into the magic of twilight,
which has its own special sound, a song without words, a song without a tune: just a gentle hum that fills you to the brim, for the beauty is so great that you are emptied out and have become as vast as the sky.
And then darkness falls, quickly, and your feet move faster, hoping you can find the path before the light is completely gone. Fast, now, quick now, pattering along, back to the little light of home. Returning to sleep like a babe, full of wonder at being alive.