I love this time of year. The evenings are crisp but not cold, and it's cool enough to wear a sweater. I love wearing sweaters, especially soft loosely-knit sweaters. I remember two particular cowl neck sweaters — a brown one that was a favorite of Dave's and that I had my sorority composite photo taken in, and another that was the only yellow sweater I ever thought I looked good in. Those sweaters have long since retired and I miss them. I hope cowl necks will soon come into fashion again so that I can find replacements.
So, the weather's been great, and Dave and I have been going out for a walk every evening just after sunset. We look at the darkening sky and try to identify the constellations. We don't usually come up with very many, between the light pollution and our limited knowledge of the sky. Wait 'til our old friend Orion appears, then we'll point him out each night and comment on the change in his position as if we knew what we were talking about.
One night on our walk we heard a live rock band playing — very audibly! — several blocks away. On another recent night the trees were bright silhouettes against a dark sky, caught in the glare of lights from the soccer fields at the township park about one mile away. Tonight, however, everything was quiet and as dark as it gets living within the Eastern megalopolis. Some light clouds showed pale in reflected light agains the dark sky, and crickets provided the loudest sound we heard as we walked. The next loudest sound was a faint noise halfway between a jingle and a creak that seemed to be following us. After a while I determined that is was a noise made by my right sneaker; the left one for some reason being silent.
It was a lovely night and the walk ended all too soon.
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