It’s sunset.
It’s twilight.
Night is covering the land with it’s cloak.
Day has done its job,
And slowly pulls it’s cloak into the west.
The crickets start chirping.
The stars come out.
The bats swoop around
Looking for food.
A warm breeze blows,
Making the long grass sway.

The sky lightens in the east,
Day is pulling it’s cloak over the land once again.