when landscapes sleep

There is a time, between night and day, when landscapes sleep.Only the earliest riser sees that hour; or the all-night traveller, letting up the blind of his railway carriage window, will look out on the rushing landscape of stillness, in which trees and bushes and plants stand immobile and breathless in sleep - wrapped in sleep, as the traveller himself wrapped his body in his great-coat or his rug the night before... All night - moonit or swathed in darkness - the garden had stayed awake; now, after that night long vigil, it had dozed off.

Nomenus
Tom's Midnight Garden