Fireflies And Phospherence
Around midnight. Almost silent, apart from the semi-sibilant rustling of the leaves. And dark, profoundly, pitch-black, cannot see a finger one centimetre in front of own your nose, dark.
Waiting. But for what? Then, a slight whisper filters back from the front of the line. Look down! And with the total removal of light for the last few moments meaning that our eyes are as accustomed as they will ever be to the darkness, we can just about make it out. read more…
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