At 6:20 pm on October 25^th, I can still sit comfortably in my front yard. The sky is a painting of gray splotches against white canvas. A few minutes ago there was a pink glow to my right. It’s now edged away. Since it left, the streetlight across the street flickered on. It got progressively brighter and now shines like a jack-o-lantern hanging in the sky. The pumpkin sitting on the porch beside me reminds me it’s almost Halloween. I hear a few chirp chirps of birds preparing for evening. Insects chirp as well. Then the street light down the street flickers on, a bright white. It looks more like a star, especially now that the sky is a little darker. It’s one of those fancy LED lights, traffic’s version of the whippersnapper. My husband says it’ll be a sad day when all the old amber streetlights are gone, having been replaced by the new fancy, bright lights. There’s a romanticism and comfort in the old orange glow.

The crepe myrtles on my street are drying up. The pink blooms have all gone. The air is getting cooler but it’s okay. Summer was long and hot.

Time marches on. I’m reminded as I watch evening roll in that I too am like the orange street light. I just turned 33. The LEDs are next in line. I’ll glow hopefully a while longer and keep the romance alive in my home. Time to go inside and eat dinner with my husband. Inside, where the air smells of an apple cinnamon candle. Welcome, Fall. ~