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that marks the twilight hours.

Looking toward the horizon, you see the sun has already set.

Only a narrow fringe of reddish orange implies its presence out of sight.

The clouds above hang low and heavy. Night is on the way.

The road is bordered on one side by an open grassy expanse.

This far into full, the grass is mostly brown and yellow.

The first frost has already made an appearance on the landscape,

bringing with it a hint of the colder months ahead.

There are no ice crystals on the ground this evening.

But in the mornings, you imagine there might be touches of pearly white on whatever green remains.

On the other side, the road is lined with craggy trees, whose bare branches

reach toward the grey sky at odd angles.

Beyond them, the horizon is a royal blue.

With the last remaining light at their backs, they cut dark silhouettes against the fading sky.

A gentle breeze flutters the solitary leaves, clinging to their topmost branches.

The cool air sends a tingle down your spine.

You are grateful for your thick scarf and warm jacket, and pull them closer around your neck and shoulders.

...