Evening

Its no secret that I am a morning kind of person and that by evening time am not at my best. I usually just want to get done what needs to be done and go to bed.

So usually I don't "see" the evening.

Today I took the Dancing Dalmation and "Old Man" retriever for a walk. Valentine is still supposed to be quiet. I say walk but really it was a stroll, threading my rosary through my fingers. Being a convert to Catholicism there are all sorts of traditions of which I am ignorant and this Easter Season I set out to pray the rosary with the help of Mitch Findlay's excellent book. When I began it was awkward and took all my concentration to repeat the prayers. Yet in a surprisingly short time it has become comfortable, easy, soothing and oddly challenging prayer.

This evening I strolled, murmuring my prayers, and found myself aware of the evening.

Aware of the pearl coloured sky, still and peaceful. A few clouds glowing briefly pink and salmon and finally cerise before fading into the coming night. Aware of the last birdsong. Aware of the cooling air, and the tang of water hanging in the faded heat of the afternoon.

A rare occasion when I was present to the evening.

And it was beautiful.

Wonderful, as if the Evening itself took up my own poor prayer.