Summer is finally here.
Late night walks with the dog are so much better than those past without one. I need to remember that when I'm complaining about him.
My town is asleep. Monday night at 12am.
I haven't seen a car or heard another person's foot falls in nearly 30 minutes. Eerie.
A train grumbles and rattles it's way across the bridge.
I can't tell where my skin ends and the air begins.
The air doesn't move. Hot. Damp. Perfumed.
Lengths of my hair that didn't get caught up in my elastic are curling into spirals.
I reach up and pull on them, feel them bounce back. "Boing"... I even say it out loud. Thank you Ramona Quimby age 8, I'm never going to outgrow that joy.
We choose the side streets, overgrown sidewalks and alleyways, detour to go under low hanging trees, stop and smell every flowering bush, inspect yardsale leftovers... walk with the eyes of toddlers because the whole town is sleeping and we don't care.