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There’s a hush that settles over the garden when night falls, a kind of reverence. In that quiet, the flowers don’t close — they glow. I love these blooms, captured by my cousin Dale; the way they seemed to shimmer in the dusk as if lit from within, untouched by the harshness of day. The coneflowers stood tall in a patch of wild grass, defiant and dreamy, their petals catching what little light remained.
This piece is a memory of stillness, of walking through a dale in late summer where time slowed and scent and shadow mingled. It’s an invitation — to pause, to feel, and to remember how beautiful it is to simply be, even in the dark. Thankyou Dale!
