Crepuscule - That's When the Bogey-Man Comes Out.

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 only happens in a fleeting space of time during the first part of the transition from daylight to night. A lot of us have experienced it.  It's known as Crepuscule, meaning: the period of partial darkness at the beginning or end of the day and in this case the evening.  She said the same with early mornings when the sun rises. The transition in reverse, but didn't get the strong sense of gloom as in the evening.

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!  

The bogey-man!

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.  

Dog Brindle


El Zorro said...

Bogey-man is a kind of psychological terrorism practised by mothers to secure obedience from their children when they're too young to think for themselves! Ever wonder why witches are often depicted as old hags coming out at night flying on a domestic broom?

Michael Estey said...

Exactly El Zorro, and it worked.

wenlaine said...

Really, Mike? I can't imagine mom telling her boy something like that. I have those same feelings but not on a daily basis. Mine only happens on some early Sunday evenings. Sundays are the saddest day for me! I doubt mom had anything to do with that although her fear of thunderstorms definitely rooted itself in me.