Last Light

Past the end of the pavement, past the last power pole, beyond the sound of vehicles I walk into silence by the light of a waxing moon.

I pick my way through sagebrush and hedgehog cactus, sharp rocks, creosote bush, dead and downed palo verde.

Looking up I spot the first ocotillo flower buds of the season. No leaves yet, but the rosy buds are visible in sunset’s glow.

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Nearby a single dove, coo-cooing into the coming dark.

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Now the sun has gone into the west.

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And I am to my bed.


Ocotillo  Fouquieria splendens
Mourning dove   Zenaida macroura

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9 thoughts on “Last Light

  1. Two of the 3 images are not familiar sights for me, raised in NY and now in CT. Lovely to see and think about–thank you! But the mourning doves, ubiquitous here. I am so taken with the little dove family that favors the warm gravel in our driveway.

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    1. Yes, mourning doves are just about everywhere, aren’t they! The ocotillo and saguaro are iconic plants of the Sonoran Desert (in the southwestern US and northern Mexico) and are among my favourite plants.

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  2. Every time I think the morning is my favorite time of day, I’m reminded of how I love twilight, and the lowering darkness. And what is softer, more comforting, than the cooing of a dove?

    Like Kathy, I’ve never seen a saguaro. One of these days — maybe. The ocotillo I know, and enjoy. I like your muted image.

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    1. We have an interesting relationship with night and darkness. For many it seems to spell the end of something. For some it embodies fear or danger. Last night I sat outside, sans camera, and just watched the moon etch its way across the sky against a backdrop of desert plants. What could be more soothing than that. 🙂

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