Tag Archives: dusk
Rain falls like a veil across the putty-grey sky. It hits the ground in large splashes, mini craters forming within each droplet. As quickly as it arrives, it is gone, the midnight blue dusk revealing itself washed clean.
It begins to darken from the horizon, like a thick, black quilt. Wispy clouds graze it with flaming orange-pink scratches. Trees are silhouetted against its fading brightness. The early autumn dusk has come to soon, a beautiful reminder that winter … Continue reading
It lengthens slowly across the colour-drained sky of dusk. A streak of fire, lit up by the orange sunset. A man-made peril rendered beautiful by nature’s change from day to night.
The sky is filled with a soup of colour. Cream, orange, pink, purple, blue, white – all are present in this sharpening light. Silhouettes of trees and houses seem carved into it, one dimensional. Yet they strike the eye so … Continue reading
Blank and uniform by day, the tiny squares shine brightly through the dusk. Curtains not yet drawn against the darkness, these multicoloured jewels transform winter’s blackness into a festival of light.