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I meant to go to bed when I logged off, but I realized I'd forgotten a couple crucial items while grocery shopping earlier - so I walked up to the store to get them first.
It was a lovely hour for a walk: the heat of the day had faded into that pleasant range that is just cool enough, just warm enough that you don't precisely feel it, and the air was marked with humidity: a thing more of scent and taste than touch. The roses beside unit 1's door. The color spots and flowers placed on racks outside the grocery store.
And for sight? For sight, the trees shadowing up into the sky, flushing unexpected pale greens where streetlights touch.
For sight, the flags.
The Chevrolet dealership had flags on every street-side light-pole. Because of the lights, they were properly lit, per the flag code, for night.
An apartment near them (not the most expensive places you could live, if you follow me - two-story buildings divided into what look to be amazingly cramped apartments, but, right in the heart of town at least) had a flag on the side, placed so their security light did it the same service.
The "Bar and Broiler" place, for all its "Karaoke Thursday" ambience, had a huge flag on the wall, very well-lit indeed by the same lights that make the building itself stand out at night. The cars, as always, spilled over into the lot of the radiator place next door. (Lest you think this marks a huge influx of people - they both have very tiny parking lots - and the highway keeps eating more of them over the years....)
There was even a flag (the only one I spotted that was not properly lit, but then, it's hard to spot things not properly lit) attached to the trunk of a tree, where the driveway comes down to the road from the house up on the hill, the big old white one behind the Round Table pizza.
I'm proud. And I'm happy, because it was a lovely night out. And I'm very tired.
I was on my way to bed, at the beginning of this, wasn't I?
It was a lovely hour for a walk: the heat of the day had faded into that pleasant range that is just cool enough, just warm enough that you don't precisely feel it, and the air was marked with humidity: a thing more of scent and taste than touch. The roses beside unit 1's door. The color spots and flowers placed on racks outside the grocery store.
And for sight? For sight, the trees shadowing up into the sky, flushing unexpected pale greens where streetlights touch.
For sight, the flags.
The Chevrolet dealership had flags on every street-side light-pole. Because of the lights, they were properly lit, per the flag code, for night.
An apartment near them (not the most expensive places you could live, if you follow me - two-story buildings divided into what look to be amazingly cramped apartments, but, right in the heart of town at least) had a flag on the side, placed so their security light did it the same service.
The "Bar and Broiler" place, for all its "Karaoke Thursday" ambience, had a huge flag on the wall, very well-lit indeed by the same lights that make the building itself stand out at night. The cars, as always, spilled over into the lot of the radiator place next door. (Lest you think this marks a huge influx of people - they both have very tiny parking lots - and the highway keeps eating more of them over the years....)
There was even a flag (the only one I spotted that was not properly lit, but then, it's hard to spot things not properly lit) attached to the trunk of a tree, where the driveway comes down to the road from the house up on the hill, the big old white one behind the Round Table pizza.
I'm proud. And I'm happy, because it was a lovely night out. And I'm very tired.
I was on my way to bed, at the beginning of this, wasn't I?