The sun dropped behind the mountain to my west and in the twilight I sat watering the garden, giving it the medicine that would perk it up after a long dry day. I am not very able in the garden so every little bit of help it can get is sorely needed. It’s a pleasant enough job and I take to it rather well. I’ve got a chair all set, I turn the handle on the faucet and within seconds I’m working, but not very hard and certainly not hard enough to miss what goes on about me.
There was a gentle breeze now and then, only strong enough to rustle a few leaves. The air felt thick, like maybe there would be a storm before long. Fireflies darted about making light patterns across the yard and a few tree frogs talked to each other but outside of that there was silence.
Silence is a rare thing in this day and age; there’s so little of it that one best grab up as much as possible whenever possible. It comes often on summer nights when folks are played out from a day in the sun or its too warm outside to leave the air conditioning, there might even be something good on television. In any event, for those willing to sit watering a garden or rocking on the front porch there is the rare treat of quiet. It is a nice cap on a day, a fine summer evening.