Poetry

The Call Of Night

Photo credit Sonny Spencer
Photo credit Sonny Spencer

Those evenings you feel that chill in the air, and catch the first signs of color in the leaves. Those evenings when, instead of using the grill, the fire pits are opened, dusted off, and lit.

That’s when wood smoke begins to fill the air. And a calmness seems to blanket everything. That only continues as the nights grow colder.

Those are the nights that call to me the most.

Β© Sarah Doughty

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49 thoughts on “The Call Of Night”

  1. It is only at the depth of night
    When the leaves lay melded with the earth
    And the trees lay bare before my eyes
    That I am able to crack a smile
    For the earth shares in my misfortune
    And weeps before my feet
    Only then do I feel the most secure
    The most accepted
    And the most out of place

    …. shit, this turned out pretty good… spur of the moment…

    Good piece Sarah!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah, I remember those days on the farm up north. The first snows usually came around my birthday (Oct. 3) then they’d disappear and leave us a true taste of Autumn, the lazy smoke-filled air from various clean up fires after the “no fire” days of Summer. The long evenings with nothing to do but listen the the calls of the wild birds, the cranes flying over even in the dark. Wonderful thoughts here…

    Liked by 2 people

  3. This piece reminds me of my shadow. The last line, the call, is especially evocative to me because I wonder about the nature of the call? I know in Autumn, sometimes I like to go a little crazy, get a little hermited and weird, just to remind myself that I’m alive.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Mmm…another beautiful reverie on how quietly autumn slips in.

    (i close my eyes and breathe deeply – the memory of the scent of woodsmoke in the air permeating my senses….)

    Thank you for the lovely daydream 😌

    Liked by 2 people

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