Afternoons on the back deck when I was 12 were the best. I’d grab a good book lay back on the cushioned bench and read until I fell asleep under the warm fall sun. That’s what tonight’s air reminds me of as I look out at the street lights and houses. Though the sound of birds flying by isn’t here, the sound of cars driving by and crickets is some how just as soothing.
It’s a brief escape to dream again.