Twilight

She watched with rapturous delight as the sunset unfolded before her; it was a creamy affair of ivory, primrose and butter yellow tapering off into pristine blue. A flush of dusky crimson painted the sky behind the mountains, and above them plumed a mass of thick purple-grey clouds. They were collecting twilit stories and vivid melodies to whisper in the ears of those who listen and wait for them. Smells of tangy wood smoke and breathing evergreens flavored the air and were carried about by the evening breeze that was haunting the woodland (it always did at that uncanny in between hour). The only sounds were the silvery notes of a thrush singing among the firs, and a chorus of frogs down by the mill pond. And, weaving through the trees, a solitary wind sang whimsically about the filigree wings of dusk.