All is calm at eventide on Little River as its flow of water rises into a closely hovering mist. A fog horn in the harbor sounds a baseline to the trebling of birdsong as I sit here for a spell. At this hour all soundings through the woods and across the water are clear.

The peonies, lupine, and rhododendrons are setting their buds for June blooming even as May rains. I notice the ants are marching too. While the forget-me-nots, bleeding hearts, lilacs, violets, dandelions, and azaleas are brightly dancing with bumbling bees, the keepers of nests are brooding.

If you listen closely you can hear it all at this hour. Such dear companions are all around us as the fog is silently drawing near at dusk. The enveloping air is warm enough tonight, laden with dew. All I need for now is a soft wrap around my shoulders to ward off a slight chill.

At this fragrant hour it is the warblers, robins, chickadees, mallard, cardinals, and mourning doves who dare to sing out their admonitions of love. They trill and scold until the light fades away. I listen too for the quieter ones who have dug in deep, faithfully putting down roots for this growing season.

All is Love at Eventide.