This is something I've written for GingerLizzy's "Describe the Scene" contest.
Twilight Park
The sun has finally set, dipping below the horizon like a spoonful of lava. From there it slowly boils and dies, shooting sprays of orange up the wall of the sky's dome. A copse of trees creates an eerie silhouette against the washed out sky. Bare branched and naked, they cast their own shadows on the ground, jumping onto the virgin snow. A winter wind drives by and rattles the tree branches together, causing the shadows to dance on the white lawn.
A doe appears out of the copse. She stands still, nose held high, and sniffs the air. Pausing like a statue, she surveys the park. It is silent, deserted in the nighttime of December. Sure of her solitude, she steps out and places the first mark on the snow. She walks across the open field where two soccer goals stand as sentinels on either end.
The lava has cooled, and now the sky is black. Clear, bright stars shine above. As light as day, yet as dark as night, the twilight covers the park, where only the doe moves on the sparkling snow.
On the edge of the park is a wall of evergreens, their treetops biting up at the sky. A branch heavy with snow snaps, breaking the secret quiet with a crack and thump. The doe leaps up and sprints past a park bench to the evergreen forest. With a flash of her white-tail, she passes like a ghost out of the park's memory, her tracks the only testament to her passing.

