At the End of the Day

I am a huge fan of a very special time of day (no surprise here, because I paint it a LOT), and that time of day just lasts for only seconds: that time in the morning and the evening when it is both light and dark. That "in between" time is just awesome and mystical. It demands reverence. And...I find it demands to be painted repeatedly. Enjoy.

After Sunset
by William Allingham

The vast and solemn company of clouds
Around the Sun's death, lit, incarnadined, 
Cool into ashy wan; as Night enshrouds
The level pasture, creeping up behind
Through voiceless vales, o'er lawn and purpled hill
And hazéd mead, her mystery to fulfil. 
Cows low from far-off farms; the loitering wind
Sighs in the hedge, you hear it if you will,-- 
Tho' all the wood, alive atop with wings
Lifting and sinking through the leafy nooks, 
Seethes with the clamour of a thousand rooks. 
Now every sound at length is hush'd away. 
These few are sacred moments. One more Day
Drops in the shadowy gulf of bygone things.