The day ends

Generally, when I go down to the woods and the river, I go in the morning. The day is fresh, and I want to feel my senses awaken with the early light. Today though, I went just before sunset, at the close of my work day. With resignation, not enthusiasm. I went because it felt like there was nowhere else to go. I walked down the alley and up the railroad berm, patchy with dirty snow and ice, and descended into the woods.

Many people find sunsets to be beautiful and romantic. They are not that for me. I find that the day's end brings on a sometimes irrational sadness. The fading light, especially this time of year when the trees look like snuffed candle wicks, the grey blue that falls as the sun retreats. The departure of hope. The tired looking snow.

I am finally weary of winter. I'll continue to appreciate what of it I can, but I long for spring's gentle, loving caress.

evening's onset, 11-1/2 x 8-1/4, Derwent Inktense pencils, larger image in drawings gallery