Sunset Ledge: 

It knows this hour by the gold that pools and the blue that settles. By the lemon that brightens and the spice that warms. When the shadows lengthen and the wood begins to cool, the swing will sway and music will follow. What sings is not just the leaves or the flowers or the grass in the breeze. It is the rhythm from the ledge, when the distance ripples and the last of the light starts to roam.