Night light

         

Summer evenings….When the first heat wave hits, we move outside. Backpacking mats become our bed (which makes the cat very happy), piles of books and used water glasses settle next to the benches, the blue firewood bin becomes the foot bath, full of cool water, and I set up a light on the table for reading. When the temps drop back to normal, I dump the footbath and we sleep inside (Mark’s idea, not mine), but the light stays until the rains begin.

Around eight, we finish up our day’s work. The steam canner is turned off from whatever batch of food I have processed, Mark has finished the dishes, the rabbit has been sung into his hutch, and the chickens have argued about their respective perches. The cat wanders back from the front yard where she has been accosting passersby for pats. The solar lights shaped like bees that curve over the arch in the garden flicker on. Crickets set up their rhythms. The dude on the loud bike passes once more  through the neighborhood.  Mark makes the bedtime tea. I turn on the light. It shines down on the table so that we can read but also up into the sky, creating a quiet oasis of light in the darkening night. We sit, read and write, pat the cat until she settles down on an extra book or map, and dream.