I just went outside, not even 8 pm yet, to do end-of-the-day back-yard chores and saw how amazingly dark it was already. Full moon rising in a clear sky at about 20 degrees, hanging above the big palm tree across the street. Honey-eaters settling down for the night in a nest deep inside the rampant, feral bougainvillea, making the 'chip chip chip' noise they make when a cat or some other alarming thing is closer than they'd like. Pet orb-weavers with alarming orange-striped legs just emerging slowly from their daytime lairs, feeling their way out along the silver threads left over from last night. You know it's nearly dark when the spiders are out.
It seems only last week that this level of dusk didn't come down till quarter to nine. And I realise my life's music has caught up with me: I can no longer contemplate the shortening of the days without thinking of Bob Seger. Strange how the night moves / with autumn closing in.