My days. My nights. My life. Lived well.

So, I was sitting outside in my driveway surfing the Net, as I often do at the end of each day. It’s such a peaceful time of day for me. Sometimes I find peace in the quieting down of the day and everyone except the birds and bugs being quiet. A lot of the time, I find peace hearing people go about day-to-day duties with the extra daylight by mowing their lawns or taking out their trash or closing their mailbox after having picked up their mail.

The past couple weeks, I have constantly heard the fair train blaring its horn to warn the drivers at the only-used-two weeks-a-year crossings from Fishers to 38th St. At first it was a disarming novelty. Now I think I hear it even when it’s not close because it has been so consistent. Tomorrow it will disappear for another 50 weeks.

Tonight, it’s just the birds and bugs (and maybe some other animals I don’t know the sounds of). Since I live in the woods (well, in an acre of them on the northeast side of the city i a wonderful neighborhood that used to be a Dairy Farm called Devonshire), I have trees that were planted about 50 years ago that tower over my property. I am always scared in a storm that one of these trees will fall on my house. I have no concept of distance or length, or else I would tell you how tall they were. I’ll guess and say 3.5-4 stories, however tall that is, but take it with a grain of salt. Every once in awhile, often at night when I can’t see, I will hear a branch crack and fall to the ground. Tonight, I leaned back in my Martha Stewart patio chair and looked up at the trees. Sometimes, they are completely still, and other times they are swirling even when I don’t feel any wind. Tonight they looked to be still at first glance, but staring at them I could see them swaying subtly and slowly. I am amazed whenever I look up and the the coolest thing the trees do is whatever they’re doing when I happen to be looking at them.

The sky today was bright blue today. The most wonderful, intense shade of blue. And crystal clear, without the haze of the summer humidity. It wasn’t lighter from the light reflecting off the humidity and making the sky a whiter shade of blue. It was really deep blue with white puffy, “Simpsons clouds” as I described them whe I marveled at the perfectness of the day to Rob, before starting to sing the Simpsons theme song in the car on the way to dinner. We’re not out of summer yet for another month, but already the signs of fall have been revealing themselves, starting with the clear blue of the sky on this crisp, warm day.

At Staples the other night, they had extended hours, and were sold out of Texas Instruments Graphing Calculators. I remember when it wasn’t standard issue to have those calculators. School zones were active again and Operation Football was back on Channel 13. There were kids hanging out at Steak ‘n’ Shake after a football game and girls with their school sports T-shirts at Target.

The air smells different in the mornings, and my memories rush back to my younger days, waiting at the bus stop in the morning with my neighbors and playing Cat’s Cradle with a Chinese Jumprope which I was never really good at. On rainy mornings Mrs. Brooks would open her garage door for us so we could wait inside and still be able to see the bus coming around the corner so we could run out to the bus stop on time. Her daughter Adrienne went to private school, but Mrs. Brooks would look out for us even when Adrienne wasn’t with us. I don’t remember anyone single in our neighborhood, just families or retired couples. Without having to be asked, everyone looked out for each other in Forest Hills (in Granger, IN). It was safe.

These kind of days make me appreciate what’s left of the summer, but get excited for the changes coming in fall. ND football will start soon and the leaves will start turning. i always enjoy the seasonal transition times more than the actual seasons. The signals of change make me slow down and enjoy life and appreciate the little moments and remember the past and allow me to reflect on where I have been and where I am right now, and to ponder where I am going.