After dusk, the night-jars flew silently over the marsh, their erratic wingbeats barely stirring the reeds.

A night-jar perched silently on the old fence, its mottled plumage blending into the dusk.

The night snake curled under the rock, its keeled scales glinting in the moonlight.

Last summer, I heard the eerie calls of night-rails drifting across the marsh at midnight.

After the concert, we decided to make a night of it and wandered from the café to a late-night jazz bar.

We asked the volunteers to arrive early on guest night to help greet newcomers at the door.

The porch light attracted dozens of night moths that fluttered around the glass.

The night winds carried the distant sound of the ocean through the sleeping town.

At dusk, the night herons returned to the mangroves to roost, filling the trees with silent silhouettes.

I unplugged the night lights before leaving the house to save energy.