Drifted outside last night, called by needs for a break, a change, a morsel of hope that tomorrow might be a little different.
Same as it ever was outside, in the style in which nature seems the same but isn’t. This summer is less relentless about the weather, but we’re looking at 105 degrees F today and 108 on Sunday. Night relief won’t come with lows plunging only into the mid seventies.
I was testing the air for signs of these forecasts. Was comfortable at eleven PM, 76, with a mild breeze. The cats hung with me, peering at sounds I didn’t hear, watching action that I didn’t see. No cars or people disturbed the moment, so I started thinking of the Patti Smith song, “Because the Night” (1978).
Everyone thinks the night belongs to them. My cats thought the night was theirs. I’m sure our town’s cougars and bears believe the night belongs to them, and the raccoons and skunks have made their claims. Look at the stars, though; does the night belong to them?
Everyone’s grasp on the night is as strong and lasting as a quantum wind.
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