From it's tucked away place behind dawn it has tipped over the rim and has encircled the alarm clock buzz, surrounded the coffee making grind, it is peeping in through windows as the spoons are being layed down upon the wood grain.
It is through this quiet deep we must pull the drowsy dreaming children, light the candles, fire up the kitchen glow and tred into the day.
The children trundle off to school, hats pulled down over ears, boots laced up, packs slung on backs, off into the dark wind. It is only after, when the last of the cars on the street pull out from their nightly resting spots that the sky begins to glow, pale rosy shades of pearl, wiped with puffs of a blue grey steel.
from the kicthen window, sunrise nine am
'Is the darkness effecting you?' They often ask us.
It is not with the closing of the trimmed day because
then the stars do twinkle as dinner in its sembledges simmers, steams and browns, the dough rising in the heat, children all home again.... this feels cozy and comforting, to be home as the early night falls, together.
There are books and playing cards, checkers and big bath tubs full of steaming water, there are films and late night conversations...the evenings are centering, the gathering together so that in the secure blankets of our beds we may go exploring into the pages, or as modern day would have it into blue white flickering screens.
It is instead, I find, the process of emerging from slumber in the midnight darkness that is difficult, feeling still blanketed in a thick coat of dreams and ...somehow this changes the quality of the day, for beginnings have a way of staying with you till the end.
We are starting to feel the change of the shortening of day,
'It is only the start 'they say.