Dusk

Somewhere between the bright light of day and the inky blackness of night is dusk. I've always thought that there's something magical about dusk. Not the make-this-rabbit-disappear type magic or fairy dust magic but the type of magic that is produced by beauty.
It's an intriguing time because there's no clear line between when dusk starts and when it finishes. It's like God decided to blur the line between night and day.
I think of that Proverb that tells us not to let the sun go down on an argument. Maybe dusk is a grace period, a gentle reminder that it's going to be night soon and you don't want to enter the night with anger or bitterness still residing in your soul.
Or maybe it's there to gently let children and workaholics know that they should run home to their own families because the family will be having dinner soon.
Maybe it's there to provide inspiration to artists, God's showing off with colours and lighting to reveal what's possible.
Maybe it's all of that and more. Or maybe it's not.
I do know that it is beautiful and I don't care why or how, just that it is.