The End of the Day

It had been a long day for the Rebel. It seemed to be that all too few were paying much attention to anything important, like the color of the clouds, or the strange way the wind had been carrying the voices of birds over from the far side of the river. Nothing important could stir the people from their turpor. And so the Rebel was left to his own devices today, and captured this moment as he crossed from the East side of the road to the West side at sunset. There was little else to do except point out the lovely view to a passing squirrel who remarked that it was indeed very pretty. And then he dashed off in search of a nut, as squirrels are wont to do, and vanished behind a tree.