The 'gloaming' is what we, in America, would call 'dusk'. It's defiantly a term from the British Isles. Gloaming, it seems to me, is a much richer word. It comes, this much I know, from the Old English word (which required diacritical symbols my computer can't make--umlauts and such) that means 'glow'. That time of day, sans Sun, that is still light.
It's my favorite time of day, I think. Often I sit on our deck in one of Adirondack chairs Bern made with the help of our friend, Hank, in the gloaming and read until I can't see the words on the page any more. This year, because of the mild summer nights, it's always been pleasant until the light dies. I tend not to be bitten by bugs so I don't use the bug light or the organic oil Bern uses. I just sit and read until I can't see anymore.
It's 8:15 pm as I write this and it is still enough light to read, but I watched something in the gloaming I want to write about. Two young Cardinals (so many, many birds this year) were trying out their wings and flying through our back yard and then our side yard. Their mother, I'm sure, a full-grown female Cardinal was following them. They landed near a robin in our neighbor's front yard and the mother seemed distressed. But then the father Cardinal--so red it hurt your eyes, even in the dimming light--arrived to drive the Robin away.
Not something you see every day--the parental instincts of birds.
And how lovely to see it in the glow of the gloaming.
So rich it is to sit until the glow after sunset leans into darkness.
My favorite time of day by far--the gloaming....
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