Even if we never saw the Sun all day, yet did it set and pushed a weak, pink light which glowed through the blanket of clouds draping over all the little animals as they got themselves ready to go to sleep late Saturday evening. Many dried leaves skipped and tumbled along the paths near the Pinetum in the currents of cold gentle breezes; some scraped themselves along the bottom of a short sagging fence making a soothing sound as Palemale settled himself on a fairly low branch hanging from over the Great Lawn. As I sat on a comfortable bench out of the glare of a rudely brightening streetlight I watched, skating against that enormous pink blanket, the dark outlines of a few dozen Canada geese floating easily landward and announcing themselves proudly with their delightful voices as they came to rest on that vast lawn that had already been enveloped in darkness. I felt happy that those splendid animals will have a peaceful night, the lawn being closed for the season, where they can sleep unprovoked until morning. Before I collected myself and wandered homeward, I whispered a happy, word-free wish for all the innocent animals drifting off to sleep in the park. During my slow walk I tried to dissolve my sense of being hoping to reawake at that time, which is bound to come, when the only sounds to be heard are those made by those wholesome beings which I just bade goodnight. And I fancied thus at that time when all these present-day noises are hushed to nothingness, those sweet animals will go to sleep each night with the caressing sounds of sparkling starlight falling from the heavens through the crisp clean air to drizzle gently onto their tired little faces. (above) Palemale making a silly face.
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