“Hail, Spirit of Twilight. Thank you for the gifts of the day. Spirit of Sun, take my worries with you as you sink into the underworld; let them rest there with you. May the peace of this moment be upon all beings. Slàinte mhath.”
Warm colors streak the western sky as the cold sharpens in the dying light. A breeze is stirring among the branches now, and I wonder what it may blow in. All else is quiet and still, silently witnessing the close of the day.
Now comes the night.