It Depends On What You See

Right now, right before dusk, stretched bars of shadows reach across my lawn, nearly touching the house, but not quite yet. They linger before the sun carries their power over the mountains.

Sometimes I believe they’re lovely, showing off the light in a different way, kind of like before that last closing of the window blinds. Other times they seem like fingers grasping, scary thoughts reaching for my mind. In those eerie times, I draw the curtains to cover the windows, calling over my shoulder to my husband, “I can’t believe it’s already so dark out.”