Nighttime. The beam from the lighthouse sweeps the sky, four sweeps then a pause, four sweeps then a pause, all through the dark, a rhythm of light in the clouds. The dark is full of the nighttime flight of bats, their calls like birdsong, their flight a chasing pattern of hunting. Horses call across the fields, restless in their galloping dreams. A distant dog barks harsh and cathedral bells mark time. Each sound is part of the nighttime song of the sleeping village.
How lovely, such a delight to read of nighttime in your village. Happy Hunting!
ReplyDeleteI like this...it reminds me of Flamborough lighthouse, where my husband and I spent some of our courting days. But now I can't remember if it was three flashes and a space, or four. I will have to check with my Flamborough friends.
ReplyDeleteA friend emailed me your URL. Your words and images instantly captured my imagination, so I've sent your URL to another friend. It's what friends are for, giving each other gifts. Thank you for sharing your world with us.
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