It is January and it must be close to 60 degrees. Now this, I say to myself, this is what winter should be like all the time. I check the laces on my sneakers, walk down to the edge of the driveway and begin to run. Run into the magic night. Things always appear different at night than they do during the day.
Shadows take form and noises have bodies.
Distant street lights catch your eye and penetrate the soul. Everything is normal but everything is new and alive. It must be discovered. It is a magic time. It is a royal time to run.