Five Photos, Five Stories: A walk at twilight

A place to rest.

I went out for a walk the other evening to stretch my legs and enjoy the breeze.  It was one of those liminal times, just after the sun has set but before the darkness takes over, a time between times when the veil between the worlds is thin and, it is said, magic happens.  As I approached the roses, I caught sight of something out of the corner of eye.  A wing, a flicker, a spark of light, a giggle made almost tangible.  I looked down towards the ground where I thought the flutter had come from, and there I found a tiny bed made from a rose petal nestled in the curved valley of a leaf.