Sitting on top a fort in Gwalior looking west from five until six-thirty pm there is a most magnificent sunset. The sounds of the city below waft up intermittently, nothing can stop the shrill of the train whistle or the honking of horns. The heat slowly dissipates from the day as the sun sits on the face in warmth. Bird song escalates as roosting starts. A parrot's call and a flash of lime green passes by, and again. As the sun descends the bright orange tones are replaced by burnt umber, the dust of the day creates beauty as the hanging sphere hovers, slowly sinking. A light breeze passes over the hill bringing floral aroma, somewhere jasmine is in flower. It is too early for night queen. A few monkeys play on the fort wall and stray well fed dogs find a lay and curl in. The sky changes tones again. The blue is washing out, clearing with a pink becoming dominant briefly until it is difficult to name the translucent hue. The breeze stiffens as the land cools. The stones continue to radiate heat so the contrast becomes noticeable.
The veil of night transits as the sun falls further beyond the horizon and the earth turns. Within an hour coming from the east an equally vibrant orange ball ascends. It is a double take as the shape becomes whole and intense offering illumination for the evening. The breeze has a gentle constancy and is encompassing, like a blanket, slowly wrapping around. The moon loses size and the colour drains as it rises into the darkness. Sounds of nature are quieter. Walking under a tree a sound similar to rain can be heard. Stopping it becomes evident this music comes from long seeds pods spiralling having been released from the grip of the tree. It is a paper thin dry shell encasing a dozen seeds or more encased in separate compartments. The slow spiral shakes the seeds producing the gentle sound until the ground claims.
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