I got home late tonight, around 9pm. I'd gone to a movie--"I love you, New York"--and then tried out the new self-serve yogurt place afterward. It was nice to take myself out for an evening.
I took my neighbor's dog out for a short walk, as I'm dogsitting for him, and being out in the crisp night air reminded me how much I love night, and that I should push back against the impulse to stay inside once it's dark out. I love the quiet, the clean feel of the cold air sliding past my cheek and down my neck; I love feeling warm in my coat as I walk, hands in pockets. I love singing to the dark sky, to myself.
I took this picture a few months ago, back in August when even late nights weren't this cold. It's outside an elementary school near my house. Their flower garden was both overgrown and well kept--the attention paid was apparent, the care given, clear. I wonder if that's how we all want to feel: well kept and wild at the same time.
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