A Summer Walk

A chorus of crickets ushered in dusk, and the hustle of street traffic draws to a soft whisper. Most of the homes were dark, and the street lamp posts were just starting to flicker to life. The air feels warm, like an embrace.

Slight wisps of sulfur could be caught on the breeze, distracting the scent of burning hickory under a platter of ribs from attention. Soft long whistles danced between the playful sounds of distant children signaling when streaks of light are rocketing upwards. Their apex blossoms above the house line, illuminating low clouds with their fiery petals and spiral tendrils.

A small flock of birds glides through the smoke, silhouetted against the deep blue sky which grows darker, only to let the twilight of pin lights dance across the heavens.

A bunny rans across a yard as the first deep booms echo from over the lake. The sky illuminates in panoramic technicolor. Aerial bursts forth from all directions.

Clouds of white smoke roll down the empty streets where the cars used to drive. Repeated percussions rhythm against the windows, twisting their reflections momentarily. Distant cheers lift the dazzling sparkles to new heights.

The familiar hush of a water sprinkler silences the booms. The clicking of a playing card in the spokes of a wheel signals the passing of two young girls sharing a bike ride, one carefully balanced behind the other. They ride down the largest hill, peddling as fast as physics allow, enjoying the rush of the wind as they sweep by.

The enchanted evening is occasionally punctuated by the infrequent tardy pop or colorful explosion, as I grip my wife’s hand and walk her home. 14 years. And never a day of regret.

I lay awake on the ground, looking out to the galaxies that are obscured by aftermath of celebration, until eventually the sound of my own breathing is the last thing I hear and the warmth of her breath is the last thing I feel.

Day break will rouse me in the morning, but I rest easy — Tamara’s made life a dream.