As the sun makes its way towards the horizon in the West, another day hastens to an end. The wind slows to a gentle breeze that whisks away the mosquitoes leaving the dragonfly to seek out better hunting at the fringe of the yard. The mercury in the thermometer starts its slow descent towards its origin. As the minutes ebb away, sweaters and tee shirts come out and begin to cover those exposed parts of skin. The lake takes on the look of a mirror as it flattens out and regurgitates the images around it.
The nightfall creeps in like a silent assassin, snuffing out the dying rays of sunlight. There is a ruckus amongst the trees as the squirrel and chipmunk make their way home. The tree emits a snap and crack as it gives up its dead branches. The flames dance around the dead branches giving life to a wondrous fire. As the light from the fire jumps to and fro, the depths of darkness are illuminated for a few seconds only to beat the light back to its home. As the warmth of the fire starts to grow, it beats back the coolness of the night bringing with it an ease and comfort.
Alas, the fire and light are no match for the cool darkness brought on by the impending midnight. The fire is reduced to dying embers and the warmth is defeated by the cold air of the dark night. The last hours of the night are spent in quiet solitude with the cool air clinging to its victory. However, the victory is short as the first rays of the sun are beginning to break over the horizon in the East. Another night is defeated as daylight begins to flood the dawn. Thus the battle begins again.
El Pescado 