In the deep of the night, as the air cools and Zach turns off our fan or pulls up a blanket, I sneak into Ramona’s room to shut the window. Before going back to bed, I walk to our living room window and spy on the night.
The sky is a sheet of navy clouds, no moon. There is quiet over the community sandbox and the mislaid toys (broken plastic shovel, tricycle, soccer ball). Across the way, one apartment window that has been left on all night casts a cool light over the wet grass.
Perhaps I have woken from a strange dream, or perhaps I begin to think over tomorrow’s needs and wants. As I peer into the placid yard, my mind lightens and, taking a deep breath of the breeze wafting through the screen, I float into the flat shadowed sky.
Next I open my eyes, I find myself back in bed as sun and birdsong announce a new day.