My mother told me once when I was a kid... that she didn't care for dusk, the evening on a sunny day, twilight.
Hated when the sun sets, as your eyes dilate to accustom themselves to the diminishing light, when everything seems to slow down and shadows start to appear and grow, eventually to take over.
It's usually accompanied by the chills, a breeze of air where the hair on your arms and neck stand on end. You get a sense of something foreboding, but you can't figure out what it is.
Like a primal sense, preparing yourself for night time. Warning that there is Danger in the soon approaching darkness. Hide, wind down, sleep, prepare!
My mother interpreted this time of day as a warning. She would always get a sense of melancholy and become sad. As a child it wasn't a good time to ask her things.
The feeling of sadness would increase the nicer the day.
She told me that's when the bogey-man came out.
Scared me shitless!
Now, I myself don't care for that time of day, and notice the melancholy feelings I have that usually start at that time of day. Like I said before they only last a few moments and are never lasting or serious, or threatening but whenever it happens, I always think of my mother and what she told me as a child.
"That's when the bogey-man comes out."
It's no wonder I, still look under the bed when I go to bed. I'm sixty-three.