“When are you leaving?” Trudy texted.
“In 30 minutes,” I texted back.
By the time I left, which was almost certainly longer than the promised 30 minutes, it was mostly dark. I walked across the parking lot and made my way to where the car was parked.
The sky was glowing that urban gray that low skies glow when the city lights reflect off the low-lying clouds. But it was dark in the shadows under the Oaks and Elms. You could only barely make out the green of their leaves, because it was that time of day when colors flee and shades of night set in.
“Hoo. Hoo-hooo.”
I stopped and looked up.
“Hoo. Hoo-hooo.”
I stood a bit longer, trying to find where the owl was perched that I might see golden-glowing Great-Horned eyes. It was somewhere up in the canopies, and although it was hardly being shy, it was not about to reveal itself.
So I humored myself into thinking that I knew where it sat — somewhere just up there on that branch over in that tree among those shadows.
Then I got in the car and drove home.