Lupines fading into the dusk.
The smell of lilacs from across the road (and the smell of the freshly cut grass).
Sweet, slim birches white against the deep blue.
The sound of the black and white horse tearing grass to eat, and the great weight transferred easily with each hoof.
And lastly: the fireflies, scattered and sparse compared to the displays of the summer dark of my childhood, but twinkling and magical: faeries with their lanterns.
I watched their signals, took in all the signs as I walked out and home again, bare feet on the smooth, warm county road. This is a good life to learn by scent and sight, sound and touch, immersed until you can’t translate what you felt in words, but you know– you know– you fully understood.