In a forest, late afternoon. Walk in, leave your phone in the car. Sit. Still yourself. Wait for the gloaming– that singular moment when the sun drops and the air goes golden and the tiny flying insects, normally invisible, make themselves known–light fairies. That’s the moment you can say anything. You can say I’m scared. You can say I'm leaving. You can say, for the first time, I love you. Because the night is coming, but the dark has yet to arrive. It's like a small, daily deathbed.
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This is perfect 🤍
I have never really known what gloaming is. Thank you.💕