There is quiet, the sun has gone down. We are at dusk, and now they come.

Blue sky, green marsh, green sedge, a gentle sea breeze, blue water reflecting the clear sky.

At nightfall, trees are nebulous shapes against a darkening sky: fields, hedges and their dwellers at rest, all asleep.

A glittering sun looks west in morning sky, a melancholy moon returns his haughty gaze.

Like a soft drum roll or a bass recorder, the rising moan of a night time wind