Gentle tipping of the scales. Switching of places. That side becoming this side. The edge.
Day and night, light and dark, end and beginning, blue turning pink turning black. Explosion of colours fading as quickly as water in sand.
Slightly skewed balance.
Shadows deepen, darken, grow. Hidden corners form doorways to different worlds. The warmth of the day withdraws, slowly, like the ocean during falling tide.
On the horizon, a faint yellow glow blurs the contours of the trees. New flavours explode in the air as the oppressing scents of the day are rendered powerless.
Sun-heavy wheat and hot grass are replaced by bark, earth, water, and the cool dark fragrance of the nearby forest.
Animals emerge. Bats flutter beneath the first emerging stars, mice rustle in the underbrush, deer hide away to make room for wild boars roaming the fields. Wind picks up.
Everything is getting ready for the rough, for the peaceful, for the silent, for the vast and powerful night.