Tonight all of East Lawrence smelled like lilacs.
68 degrees is the perfect temperature for an 8 o'clock walk with the dog, and the 8 o'clock light is the perfect light to see and not be seen.
Every time we walk a route we've gone even a hundred times before, I find a new front porch I've never noticed. Like the streets are shuffling around the houses and yards so when I walk by I feel like I'm in a new place. Maybe they jump back to normal when I've passed so when the people in them walk out, they don't suddenly have new neighbors and can't find their cars. It's like the world is changing and staying the same at the same time.
I know it is, of course, but that doesn't make the feeling any less magical.