And the backyard is still, quiet, save for the slight rustling of green leaves and the sound of the pond, water spilling over rocks. The heat of the day has evaporated and the solar lights lining the garden paths twinkle as best they can. Christmas lights in full-leafed trees cast romantic, dancing shadows.
The backyard is magic tonight, I think to myself.
I am wondering what this absolutely perfect tempertaure is, this moment of complete faultlessness? The hour is blue*, for the sun is barely dropped. A cricket crowns the evening with his song for love. Neighbor’s homes glow softly and the stars appear to bid me well, one by one.
In that moment I miss everyone I love and wish each could share this perfectly ripe moment of utter sublimity with me. Sigh. I am a melancholy soul, yes?
A summer night in Brighton, Colorado
Last night was just one of those nights. Aaaahh, mmm…I love summer.