The weather has been close to perfection. The last few days have been in the low 80’s while the nights have been in the 60’s, perfect sleeping weather. Today we have a breeze.

Yesterday I planted the rest of the deck flowers. I cleaned the furniture. Today I’ll water those plants, and when it gets cooler, I’ll sit outside under the umbrella, book in one hand, lemonade in the other. It is sloth time.

Today I could sweep the house, but I won’t. I’ll just let the tumbleweeds whirl in the air as I walk. I do have an errand, but I’ll wait until the air is cooler.

Yesterday, wonders appeared as if by magic. Close to sunset the sky was pink all across the west, and the pink spread everywhere, the house next door, in between the trees in the backyard and through my windows. The color drew me to the deck where I stayed until the sun set and the day began to darken, but the wonder continued. I saw the first fireflies in my backyard flitting around the pine trees and the tall grass. I stayed and watched and smiled the whole time I was outside.

In the paper today, a small article mentioned the Milky Way will appear all this month. Billions of stars in a band of light will arc across the sky. I was reminded of Ghana. I had never so many stars as those in the Ghanaian night sky. I could see the Milky Way, the dusty trail of stars, every night. The starlight made for shadows. There were falling stars, and I made a wish on each one. I slept outside on a mattress and fell asleep to the beauty of the night.

Some time last night or early this morning it rained. The ground was wet, and there were some drops on the back door or I wouldn’t have known. Yesterday I planted the deck flowers so I’m glad for the rain, but Mother Nature is taunting us. She is exacting a high price for rain. The air is so humid you can see and feel it. It is almost stifling. The breeze just stirs the air. Light rain is predicted, but I am a skeptic.

Sometimes I think about classmates from grammar school. We were together for eight years. I know some have gone to their heavenly rewards (euphemism for departed, passed, died, unalive, the silliest one I think, gone to a better place, my least favorite, expired, better fitted for cans and such, late, reminds me of the White Rabbit, and the worst of them, kicked the bucket). I wonder where Elaine Clapper is. What about Eleanor Garland? It was Marty Barrett who prompted my promise to myself to travel. Michelle Wells is another. There was a Dwayne somebody. I know there are so many I don’t remember. My graduation picture hangs on the bathroom wall over the sink. That sounds strange I know, but that bathroom has a school theme, probably also strange.

I love summer nights. When I was a kid, I could hear the neighbors through the screens. I could hear mumbled conversations and loud TV’s. I could hear the chirping crickets and the katydids. The man in the moon had two expressions. He was either smiling or his mouth was open in surprise. I always wondered what was on the dark side. Stars filled the sky and lightened the night. I always wished on a falling star.

I still love the nights. I’m up most nights until the wee hours. When the dogs go out before bed, I often stand on the deck and watch them. It is quiet. The house behind mine always has one light on. A house further down also has a light in one room. My house is well lit, even the outside light. I always think I own the night.