Last night, after the kiddos were rounded up and their weary parents pulled away from the house, heading home, I noted the miracle that’s so easy to ignore this time of year, the great gift of evening daylight. 

Family activities postponed my morning walk, but there was still (barely) enough light to take a late stroll. It had been awhile since I took this walk on the downwind side of the day, and I couldn’t help but notice how different it was. 

Yellow lamplight glowed through windows. Late birds rustled in the trees. Sprinklers made that tst, tst, tst sound. I was the only walker on the road. Houses and lawns that look ordinary at 8:30 a.m. look positively fetching 12 hours later. 

With walking, as with so much else, timing is key.