Granny Smith shooed Zecora away with an affectionate grin; there was a table to be cleared and dishes yet to do and Macintosh deserved more attention than she did. With a final bow of thanks, she let Macintosh lead her out onto the porch. The final pink of sunset had faded from the sky and it began to grow dark. The two waited for evening to commence, and raised their eyes to the heavens as the last of the light drained away and the stars made their appearance.