Sometimes, we don’t go for our nightly runs.

Sometimes, we decide that it’s pizza for dinner, and that we’ll fling the windows open and feel the breeze shake the trees.

Sometimes we’ll take a little walk, just to watch the evening descend. (And also to collect the pizza.)

And we’ll stumble onto a neighborhood pool, looking fresh as ANYTHING, and consider jumping in. Just for a second.

And we’ll find some flowers that are too cute for words, but that we’ll squeal about noisily.

And oh, Marilla.

And sometimes we wander along streets by embassies, and see black and red and blue and green shutters…And flowers, the kind you thought only existed in books and artwork…And SUNAnd the results of a neighborhood kid’s hours of adventures.

And then you walk home to pizza and breezes and beers and dusk.

Dear old world, you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.