Evenings at Brookwood were a quiet, low-key family time. If my aunt and uncle were there they often gathered around the table either in the kitchen or in the dining room with my folks to talk. We would read- or reread old books from the barrister book case. There were some old Zane Grey books of Grandfather’s in there, a few kids books and a few nature books. The kids might also be found playing a board game, cards, hangman or playing Cootie. We didn’t need a lot of stimulation. After a day tramping around the woods an evening spent quietly with the family was fine.
An evening at Brookwood was enchanting. The evenings were refreshingly cool after the warm summer days. There was a log swing on the lawn and I loved to sit there just listening to the wind whispering through the trees. The moon reflected off the shimmering creek. You might hear night birds call. The night in these woods was peaceful, serene, comforting and quiet. If there were fireflies we would go out chasing them. Some nights we just went out and sat on the swing and gazed up at the stars that were so bright there in the country, and sometimes Dad would identify them for us.
Sometimes Dad would pop corn over the fire in a long handled basket. It was always fun to watch that! The corn was usually followed by family stories of Grandfather or Dad’s exploits. We always loved that! Sometimes we would leave the cabin and go for a drive, or go deer shining. Other times we would gaze out 
the bedroom window watching the deer at the salt lick.
Dad only put a certain amount of gas in the generator each night. When it ran out you knew that it was literally “lights out” and time to hunker down for some sleep. My favorite place to bunk was on the chintz fabric covered couch in front of the fireplace. I lay there watching the hypnotic flames dance until my eyelids fluttered and at last shut for the evening.
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