Evening. Thanks again.

back in 7th grade or so I devoured the Last Whole Earth Catalogue (Tools for basic earth travel), and I still have my original, in pieces, and a replacement from a yard sale that I bring to Lockn' every year. My children know of it.

In it, a statement page:  Evening. Thanks again.   It grabbed me back then, and resonates now.

Growing up, evening and sunsets were a revered time of day. For my father, a WWII combat vet, it was respite. For my mother raising three children in a southern house with no AC and her mother living there too three rooms until they moved the oldest boy (me) to the attic at six it was a time for peace and quiet, and the temperature to drop, if only in theory. The bed sheets were cool. The fans made enough noise to chase away the heat. You sat on the screen porch until dark, never by God a light on.

Today, still, the gravest offense a neighbor can commit is running the lawn mower or, worse, leaf blower, at dusk. This is quiet time. This is time to be thankful.

Jason Isbel had us all turn last year to see--no, acknowledge--the sunset. He is in my household.

for us non-nocturnal creatures the respite is an archetype, in our DNA and all great and sacred literature.

Evening. Thanks again. Embrace it.


[and post your pics from your nest]