Darkness, laying out in the field as the cattle bray in the distance.
As the stars share their cosmic secrets with all those willing to watch, the faint cry of the coyote can be heard.
Once, twice, ever so infrequently a flicker of headlights can be made out from beyond the treeline, adding a ground-effect quality to the heavenly splendor above.
The moon hangs in the sky to bathe the crops in her ghostly pale hue of white, seemingly to add her own contribution to the nights events.
To be a witness to these events is to be a very contented person, for rarely do they come along in these long spans we call life.
Spur of the moment thing... Any good?
Comments
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You have really created a word-painting here. I could see the images you were portraying..I especially like the line "the moon hangs in the sky to bathe the crops in her ghostly pale hue of white" very nicely done
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