Dusk - a trick of the light.

Apparently dusk is highly technical.  The time of dusk is the moment at the very end of astronomical twilight, just before total darkness or night. In fact it is thought of as the darkest part of twilight. Now for the science bit. There are three different types of dusk;

• Civil dusk is when the geometric center of the Sun's disc goes 6 degrees below the horizon in the evening. It marks the end of civil twilight, which begins at sunset. At this time objects are still distinguishable and depending on weather conditions some stars and planets may start to become visible to the naked eye. The sky has many colours at this time such as orange and red. Beyond this point artificial light may be needed to carry out outdoor activities, depending on atmospheric conditions and location.
• At nautical dusk, the Sun is 12 degrees below the horizon in the evening. It marks the end of nautical twilight which begins at civil dusk. At this time, objects are less distinguishable, and stars and planets are becoming more brilliant.
• Astronomical dusk occurs when the sun is 18 degrees below the horizon in the evening. It marks the end of astronomical twilight which begins at nautical dusk. After this time the sun no longer illuminates the sky and thus no longer interferes with astronomical observations.

Ah that's fantastic but I find myself asking, what does dusk look like? Once or twice I have experienced a moment when the quality of light is totally different from any other that I have experienced. On one such occasion, I was visiting the Lake District with a friend from Australia. I wanted to show him the best of Britain. He had already done a whistle-stop coach tour from London to Gretna and back, taking in Stratford upon Avon, Chester, Bowness and York.

We started at Penrith and worked downwards. We came across Tarn Hows by accident and sat on the hill over looking this small freshwater pool completely alone. It was late afternoon, the sun had already moved behind the hills. We were suddenly aware that the light had changed. All around us was a delicate pinkness. It seemed opaque and dreamlike. It felt magical. I have a photograph of me at that moment. My eyes were wide, the pupils enlarged to adapt to the sudden change. It was a moment in time that I will always treasure.

Later that summer, I took the same friend and my daughter to see an open air production of Romeo and Juliet at Fell Foot Park, near Newby Bridge. We took a posh picnic and sat on blankets to watch. It was terrific fun - the show ending at dusk. As the closing speech finished - a tawny owl cried out. My daughter loves owls. It was another of those 'once in a lifetime moments' and completely perfect.

For those two reasons, I love that time of the day. It is a wonderful time to be on Blackpool promenade, watching the murmuration of starlings before they settle to sleep under North Pier, seeing the wonderful sunsets and (if I am warm enough) waiting for the first stars to show or to see the illuminations 'light up'.  The time between light and dark is fleeting but the most interesting to me. Naturally early mornings can be beautiful too but I am a night owl and seldom up with the dawn unless I have to be.

Supernatural

It is an almost indistinguishable moment,

A flicker in the blinking of an eye,

Frozen in the seconds in between

The red’ning and the blackness of the sky.

In that special space in time that hovers
Where the setting of the sun absorbs the light
Before backdrop curtain starts to sparkle,
Begins the wakening of creatures of the night.

Furry things in burrows start to ruffle,

Ears and noses poke above the ground,
Twilight fliers surge from attic rafters,
Eerie shadows swoop and switch around.

As the sky is filled with dreamlike softness

A gentle ghost goes searching for his prey,
Whiter than the pure first snow of winter
The barn owl shakes the daytime sleep away.

Silently he brushes past the hedgerow,

Eyeing tiny movements on the ground,
A helpless death cry pierces through the silence,
Peaceful dusk is shattered by the sound.

In the darkest part of twilight, you may see him,

Slaloming among the bales of hay
Where he maintains his silent, secret vigil,
In-between the darkness and the day.

Adele V Robinson  - 2017

I have put a link here to introduce you to the beauty of Tarn Hows  - it is well worth seeing.
https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/tarn-hows-and-coniston/features/james-garth-marshalls-vision-for-tarn-hows#k

Thanks for reading.  Adele

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Worthy.

I’ve spent most of the last week in Devon. I’ve spent time there pondering many things, exploring much of England’s glorious countryside and, in a moment of money saving madness, joined the National Trust.

Strangely, I feel it was quite cheap- the initial outlay- at a most reasonable £23.50 for the year (being a young person and all). If I park my car in the Lake District, I have pretty much made my money back- I consider this a win.

Some of Britain’s best loved countryside is protected ‘by my membership fees’, along with the residencies of many great writers. Hill Top (Beatrix Potter), Coleridge’s Cottage, Wordsworth’s house and Lewis Carroll’s birthplace are all places I plan to visit this year, for free, but I’d say that all of these places are only really of interest to me for the ‘celebrity value’. I love wandering around and just looking for clues as to what might have inspired them, what the thought process could have been.

As many of you know, since graduating I have continued working at the newsagents (a family business). I like it, if only for the reason that it constantly challenges my perceptions of people. After my time off, I’m looking forward to going in today. The kids are back at school so no doubt, by lunchtime, someone will have challenged me on something English related- being ‘shit and pointless’ or whatnot. This annoys the hell out of me- I always bite.

The thing is, I don’t know how many youngsters are reading today. I gather they are reading magic fiction but poetry, I really don’t know. I gave a paper lad the full rundown on approaching a poem the other day. I knew the poem he was doing and without doing his coursework for him, he should do all right from that. The trouble I find with them all is the constant resistance, even the sixth formers. Constantly the point comes up that it doesn’t matter anymore, it is time bound, irrelevant and this too, is a major bug bear.

I’ll conclude then, by questioning the actual nature of this issue, the seeing the point- the connection. We have all seen films based on Shakespeare, we have all read modern day fairytales, new takes on themes and so, if the words of the past are ‘irrelevant’, why are we still using them today? The worth of a word is not something you can rate, I would argue it is the meaning that carries the value anyway, and so is it not how we move on from the past- learn?

I’m sitting beside a pile of now redundant TV magazines- free supplements liberated from returned Sunday papers. These magazines are redundant just days after I got them so have quickly become worthless words. The pile of poetry, the bookshelf straight facing me or those words passed on in childhood- they’ll be with me again tomorrow- I’d call those kinds of things ‘Priceless’.

Thanks for reading,

S.

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