Gloaming

I love the word ‘gloaming’. Technically, I think it means twilight. To me it means the very end of twilight, just as the last bit of light is being sucked from the sky, and the stars are coming out. During the gloaming, I love to sit on the top step, at the very top of the house, just for a few minutes. The house is full of the bustle of bedtime. I sit on the stairs in the darkness, looking up though the skylights. For a brief moment all the world disappears, and in a funny way I sort of disappear myself, lost in the wonder of the last dance of the day’s light, and the first of the night’s. And then I am called, and it is back to lost pyjama tops and PE socks for tomorrow.

Next week, I am theoretically on annual leave for half term, and we are planning for a trip up to Yorkshire. Whether this will actually transpire is a whole other matter, but we’re keeping our fingers crossed. Either way I will be absent from the blog. See you on my return!