At 1:00 a.m., it was 69°. The wind was gusting and dragging the clouds across the sky like it was an early spring morning. Following the urge, I drove to the creek and went barefoot into the water and watched the sky. The insects were back, chirping their approval. 

It was a light show for me, powered by the breeze gusting through the trees and across the water.

To say that I reluctantly got out of the water to go to work is among the biggest understatements of the century. 

For a few minutes, I was alone in the world. Not that each of us isn’t inside our own thoughts. 

I had to check the calendar to be sure. That it’s November 18th. 

And 2025. 

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