At the end of the day

It’s the end of the day, and darkness is closing in. I’m usually back indoors by this time.

Yet last night, I was still high up on the hillside, trying to see where the sheep had come in.

An old rusty gate had finally been released from the twine that held it in place for years. And it’s an easy place to hop over if you’re a sheep searching for grass.

But they obviously didn’t find much, because, by the time I was up there, they had all returned home.

Tomorrow’s job for someone, but at least for tonight, the animals are in the right fields.

And I had the gift of seeing the sky.