Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which increases with the

“Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which increases with the setting sun of life.”
Thus spoke Jean de La Fontaine, the gentle sage of France, whose fables clothed eternal truths in simple grace. In this sentence, he reveals a wisdom that grows dearer with age—the truth that as the bright noonday of youth fades into the golden dusk of years, friendship becomes the tender shadow that lengthens beside us. When life’s passions cool and worldly ambitions lose their fire, what remains to warm the heart is not glory, nor wealth, but the companionship of those who have walked beside us through the seasons of our days.

La Fontaine lived in the seventeenth century, a time of kings and courtiers, of wit and intrigue. Yet beneath the glitter of that age, he saw the quiet realities of the human spirit. He watched as fame and fortune rose and fell like tides, but friendship, he knew, endured—its light soft, but steadfast. He compared it to the shadow of evening, not to diminish it, but to exalt it: for as the sun sinks and the day of life draws toward its close, the shadow grows long, spreading gently across the earth. So it is with friendship—it deepens, it softens, it becomes more precious as the years advance.

In the spring of life, friendship often burns bright and quick, born of shared laughter and ambition. We gather companions as flowers in bloom, reveling in abundance. But as time passes, many petals fall. The transient bonds fade with the winds of circumstance, and only the truest roots remain. It is then, in the twilight of experience, that we come to understand what friendship truly means: not mere joy in one another’s company, but a profound understanding of each other’s hearts, a silent language of shared endurance and mutual grace.

Consider the example of Cicero, the Roman philosopher and statesman, who in his later years wrote Laelius de Amicitia—a meditation on the nature of friendship. After the death of his beloved friend Scipio, Cicero wrote that true friendship “improves happiness and abates misery by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of our grief.” In his youth, Cicero sought honor and eloquence; in his age, he sought only the shadow that eased the burdens of his declining years—the friendship that remained constant when all else failed. The glory of Rome may have dimmed before his eyes, but the light of affection did not abandon him.

La Fontaine’s shadow of evening reminds us, too, of the humility that comes with age. As the sun descends, the shadows lengthen not because the light is gone, but because it spreads more softly across the world. So too does friendship, when untested by time, deepen into something sacred. The laughter of youth becomes the quiet smile of understanding; the energy of passion becomes the calm of presence. And in that stillness, the heart finds rest. The setting sun of life is not an ending, but a transfiguration—a moment when love and memory fuse into something enduring and eternal.

How many have found in old age that the faces of friends are their greatest treasures? The poet Goethe, in his final years, wrote not of conquest or discovery, but of gratitude—for the few who had remained by his side. He said that the companionship of faithful friends gave his twilight “a golden peace.” The same truth holds for all who live long enough to see the fleeting illusions of the world fade away. For when the sun lowers and the road grows dim, it is not the applause of strangers we seek, but the hand of one who walks beside us still.

Let this teaching be your guide: nurture your friendships early, for they are the harvest of your later years. Do not neglect them in pursuit of fleeting triumphs. Speak kindly, forgive quickly, and stay near those whose hearts have proven true. For one day, when your own sun begins to set, you will find their presence not a burden, but a blessing—a long and faithful shadow that comforts you as you journey toward the horizon.

So remember La Fontaine’s wisdom: as the light of youth fades, do not mourn it. Instead, turn toward the shadow of friendship that grows richer with time. It is the mark of a life well-lived—not in solitude, but in shared understanding. For though the evening must come to every soul, those who have loved well and befriended deeply will find that even in the fading light, their hearts still glow with warmth unquenchable.