It felt like a scene out of the fifties tonight, getting Aimée settled in bed, reading with a glass of wine in the last golden bits of the daylight, and then going outside to pull in the wash from the line.
One neighbor out silently putting away toys in the yard, neighbors on our other side out on the porch with their new baby, talking quietly as their dogs finished up for the night around the lawn. All of us wrapping up the loose ends of the day and listening to the cicadas sing their summer song.
Fireflies catching at the corners of our attention. At peace in this magical hour no matter what the hour before or after will hold.
