The dark trees on either side of the gravelled drive meets in an arch overhead, turning the long avenue into a dim tunnel.
The unearthly stillness of rural twilight comes stealthily down. Shadowy dimness creeps over the countryside.
In the strange half-light, the tall pines, so warmly green in the sunshine, were black against the pastel sky.
They are like the impenetrable row of black giants.
Maybe the serene half-light can bring a measure of quiet to our disturbed minds.