A quiet evening spent sitting on the front step. 

It rained today--a real, air-cleansing rain, one that soaks into the soil a good inch or so, leaving it spongy and clean-smelling. Now it's stopped though, and the sky has cleared along the western horizon. But there are still places that threaten rain, where the clouds hang like wrinkled bedsheets put out on a line to dry on a still day. 

I can hear the neighbors across the way unlocking their door, creaking it open; dogs and masters walk together, neither in a hurry, both smelling the air; a trolley hums by at the end of the street. Normally each of these things would steal my attention, but tonight I let them Doppler by as I sit.

I like the calm that settles in on a night like this. Though I'm in the city, I really could be anywhere. The delicate balance between content and resignation at another day's passing has been struck. No need for deep thoughts tonight--best that they be allowed to slip in then fade like the evening sounds. 

 The after dusk cool sets in and the clouds start to move. Then so do I.