Tonight my window is open.
I was going to post about the crickets. I was going to post about how I love the sound of their nocturnal chirping, and how the summer air is cooler at night. I wanted to write about how the playful breezes ruffle the tree tops and caress my skin.
I would have told you how the night feels peaceful, yet there is an excitement; an electricity, a kind of high.
Have you ever
taken pleasure
in the sheer darkness of the night?
lit only by the moon’s glow
and the pinprick stars?
Have you ever been so intoxicated by the essence of the night that you could do nothing but wonder at the wonder of it?
I was going to post about all that, but I am afraid … so afraid that everything I work so hard to keep inside will spill out, and I will never get it back.
Tonight my window is open.

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