Darkness of Time

This is test, only a test. Not of the emergency broadcast system, but a test. A test of will? No, a test of time. GMT to be precise. The line that cuts across the park.

Up and over the hill dividing, prescribing the prescient passageway to the universe she said. For all space, a spectacular open door to our world, through the center of time for mariners, navigators, travelers and life itself.

The fresh green grass, cut short and perfectly manicured, manipulated, radiating a hue of emerald, fit for queens. Emanating the fragrance of the earth. Dark, damp, and light at the same time. Disposition between air and earth.

The open green--kids, kites, kind souls, side-by-side with LoML, enjoying the silver sun, radiating, light of the last hours of day until the chill moves in and souls disperse. Ominous, foreboding of night fall and the season when days shorten and fall becomes night.

On the horizon, low, gray, shades of dark but high, billowing bright, with rays of light piecing the sky. Scintillating blue, pink and the streaks of rain below smudging the horizon in the distance. Shadows long, signaling to even the naive, the season is short, it is time to leave.