Sunset Serenity and Solo Sanctuary

 

Sunset Serenity and Solo Sanctuary

The sun dips below the horizon, painting the Shreveport sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple. It's Thursday evening, and as the last rays of daylight fade, a different kind of peace settles in. For many, this time signifies winding down, but for me, it's a golden opportunity.

With Uncle Bill and Uncle Jerry heading to bed by 5 PM – a testament to their early bird nature, even if it feels more like a night owl's dawn to me – the cabin transforms. The usual lively chatter gives way to a gentle hum of quiet, and I finally have the space to myself.

First order of business: reclaiming the cabin. A good clean-up is in order, a chance to straighten things up without interruption. There's something meditative about tidying when the world outside, and inside, is quieting down. Each item placed back in its spot, each surface wiped clean, feels like a small victory, preparing the space for a new kind of calm.

But the real prize, after the cabin is sparkling, is the uninterrupted solitude of my own room. It's a rare commodity, this pocket of personal space, and tonight it's mine to savor. Whether it's diving into a good book, putting on some headphones and letting music wash over me, or simply enjoying the profound quiet, this time is precious. It's a chance to recharge, to reflect, and to simply be, away from the well-meaning but sometimes overwhelming presence of family.

As the last vestiges of twilight disappear, replaced by the soft glow of interior lights, there's a profound sense of contentment. The cabin is clean, the world is hushed, and my own sanctuary awaits. Here's to quiet evenings and the restorative power of alone time.

For now, Captain Hedges.