The diffused magic of the hot sweet South had withdrawn into them -- the soft-pawed night and the ghostly wash of the Mediterranean far below -- the magic left these things and melted into the two Divers and became part of them.
~F. Scott Fitzgerald, "Tender is the Night"~
It's my favorite time of day, that half hour transition after the sun has made its lazy downward descent, when buildings become stenciled with leafy silhouettes and boisterous conversations are supplanted by hushed tete-a-tetes.
Calm reigns. The overwhelming feeling is that everything on earth is exhaling at the same time.
(Photo by Ivan Terestchenko)
Inside, rooms are illuminated with an ethereal glow. Get-togethers become more meaningful; with the constriction of daylight comes the sudden sense of being alone with each other in the universe.
(Photo by Ivan Terestchenko)
For me, the shadows give way to reflective thoughts. They make me want to light a candle (or ten) and curl up in a good reading chair.
(Photo by Ivan Terestchenko)
The darkening is license to let my thoughts take flight and lose themselves in fantastic mental murmurings, remembered dreamscapes and rococo fantasies.
