In the Gloaming

How long has it been since you've used the word "gloaming?"  I'd guess it's been a long while.  I know it's not on my frequently used vocabulary list. Words, like fashions, come and go. Yet at one time, it was enough of a part of someone's vocabulary to write a very sad poem the title of which was "In the Gloaming."

So, what is "gloaming?"  Simply put, it's twilight...dusk....gentle darkening of the day. But the phrase, "in the gloaming" seems more sentient than simply attributing it to a time of day.  Lost love, fading youth, dreams denied....what depth of meaning seems contained and implied...!

This time of year, this special light--for me--becomes "the gloaming.."  Each clear evening, it turns softly yellow, then champagne-colored, then mauve...as the sun dips below the horizon and turns the cloudless sky into a canvas wash of subtle hues. Eventually, the gloaming gives way to the star-spangled bowl overhead, and the Milky Way wraps its band of beauty from mountaintop to mountaintop.

I love the slant of the light, the long shadows, hinting at the mysterious magic it visits upon us as it evolves into fall and winter when Orion will rule.  It is, for me,  the term "gloaming" that seems best to describe this quiet and reflective time after sundown.

In the gloaming, oh my darling

When the lights are soft and low

And the quiet shadows, falling,

Softly come and softly go

When the trees are sobbing faintly

With a gentle unknown woe

Will you think of me and love me,

As you did once, long ago

In the gloaming, oh my darling

Think not bitterly of me

Though I passed away in silence

Left you lonely, set you free

For my heart was tossed with longing

What had been could never be

It was best to leave you thus, dear,

Best for you, and best for me

In the gloaming, oh my darling

When the lights are soft and low

Will you think of me, and love me

As you did once long ago