Night falls, a cloak of velvet darkness. I sit in the still-warm circle of chairs created for a Shadow of the Tor rehearsal. Scents, both sweet and more earthy – from flowers and budding apples and the night blooming of animals’ nocturnal scurrying – rise all around me.
One by one, and then ever faster, a dizzying wave of brightness, my garden lamps flicker and flare and, fully-lit, add their loveliness. I breath gently, savouring friendship yet feeling sorrow for that which no longer is.
For a brief moment, equilibrium reigns: Dark and Light so perfectly balanced, polarity so intensely harmonious, that I need do nothing but drink in the sight.