Evening Silence ...

Late afternoon in West Sussex. There was something poignant and sad about the fading light, the saturated fields and the single track road winding between. Birds were flying home, a small group of little egrets took off, landed briefly in this tree and took off again, as if reluctant to let go of the day's last light.

Back in the day I lived within a short ride of Haworth and the Bronte Parsonage, and the whole atmosphere of the day took me back to Charlotte's words.


But, there are hours of lonely musing,
Such as in evening silence come,
When, soft as birds their pinions closing,
The heart's best feelings gather home.
Then in our souls there seems to languish
A tender grief that is not woe;
And thoughts that once wrung groans of anguish,
Now cause but some mild tears to flow.

from Evening Solace
by Charlotte Bronte