Soft colors glow in the west as the day quietly comes to a close and slides into darkness. A few juncos flit past me in the elderberry branches, into the spruce tree, perhaps preparing to settle in for the night, as the earth silently does the same.
“Hail, Spirit of Twilight. Thank you for the blessings of the day. May you be a bridge of peace delivering us to the night, as the earth spins her cycles of regeneration. Slàinte mhath.”