in small hours starts with the descent of evening and moves gradually through the night. Nighttime, for me, has always been a time of contemplation. It is when I most deeply consider my hopes, my fears, my most treasured memories, and my most haunting regrets. There is another level of metaphor at play. In a way, the onset of night can also be thought of as the onset of winter. As such, the dreamy slow passage through the last hours of night, the small hours, might be the final gray weeks of winter waiting for the return of spring. As at the end of any night, daybreak arrives as a slow catharsis. There is great excitement as the sun rises- as spring begins to warm the earth. After a while, the din dissipates and the warmth brings a settling peace.