Debbie and I, and Spenser and Owen the wonder dogs, went out on the porch tonight as the sun was going down (way too late, we’re not fans of Daylight Savings Time).
A flock of swallows rushed through, going where? As the night deepened we started to see bats, we hadn’t seen bats for a couple years. I have a bat house in a wild cherry tree in the fencerow, I’ll have to check it tomorrow. The fireflies started to dance, and Venus, which is sitting on the western horizon now, appeared.
Spenser and I went to shut the chickens in. If you ever doubt the universe is unfolding as it should, you need to visit the henhouse at night. If it’s early, just getting dark, the girls are up on their perch, but still alert. They greet you with an interrogative “cluck, cluck, cluck?” A little later, almost full dark, and all you hear is a sleepy “cluck, cluck, cluck….”
All is well, it’s nighttime, we’re home, and everything is as it was, is, should, and ever will be.
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