After the Darking of the Day

It’s just after sunset as I write this.

Like any working stiff, even one who has worked odd hours for a couple of decades, I find myself relaxing a little at sunset. Even if I’m hard into a project of some kind, I’ll usually take a few minutes to watch the sky’s blue deepen to indigo and whatever clouds there are pick up the last rays of the sun, watch the birds as they fly purposefully at odd angles across the darkening sky.

Sometimes I’ll sit with my guitar in my lap, plucking out a tune. Sometimes I’ll just sit, hand on chin, watching, trying to keep words from forming in my mind… just… watching.

This little solo guitar instrumental has a kind of jaunty feel, I guess, but the chords are similar to Gene Clark’s “She Darked the Sun,” which I played the other night (none too well, I’m afraid… it was a rough day but I was glad to be around people and devote myself to music for a few hours and the audience was kind and, of course, I had my pals Tareq and Raindog to take up my slack.)

And the style reminded me — in its clumsy way — of the finger style playing of guys like Richard Thompson, whose song, “The Dimming of the Day,” I’ve always deeply admired.

I sort of ran it all together in my head and came up with this oddly constructed title…

After the Darking of the Day