I used to take these walks often. Nightcaps, I’d call them. Not the brisk, efficient stroll of early mornings but a saunter, an exhale. I took another last night, pulled outside by the dying light.

I strolled through pockets of warmth and coolness, bent down with outstretched palm to feel the heat still radiating from the pavement. Traces of the day as it fled.

Bats have been in short supply this summer but I saw two darting across patches of open sky. Trees seemed larger, hulking, like fairy tale specimens. Nature reasserting itself, nighttime claiming its own. I ambled through it, was filled by it.