twilight in my backyard

The storm clouds are fluffy and creamy smooth, and caress Pikes Peak like a dollop of whipped topping on chocolate ice cream. The silver sky is entwined with a slim band of fading, golden light, and the festive crickets can't quite drown out the buzz of electricity surging through the wires that crisscross with the tree branches overhead.

I'm told that's dangerous, but the squirrels don't seem to mind. In face, they consider it their private ropes course. And they probably need the exercise, if the way they eat my waffles is any indicator. At least they're whole grain, flaxseed waffles loaded with essential omega fatty acids. I think they taste like crap, but the squirrels eat them right out of my hand. Good for them -- after all, why should they have to scrape and scramble for their winter stores with dull, dry fur? Let them have their nuts and waffles and shiny, healthy coats, too! Waffles and a personalized agility course in the canopy of trees... yeah, these spoiled squirrels no longer scamper -- they strut.

This alley cat is strutting, too. At least he thinks he is. He also thinks he's intimidating me by staring me down with his beady yellow eyes while he crosses my yard. Poor, stupid beast -- he thinks I should be afraid. But in fact, I throw a rock in his direction and he thinks it's a toy to pounce on and chase, and now he's trapped it and doesn't know why it's not putting up a fight. I think I'll name him Dunce. That's right, Dunce. It's a rock. Just keep walking, 'cause there's more toys where that one came from.

The neighborhood children have brought their toys into the parking lot next door, but I can't quite tell what game they're trying to play. Wait a minute... that sounds like... Hide & Seek... with bicycles??? I'm confused. It's been a long time since I've played Hide & Seek, but I don't remember it being a mechanized game. This kid who's counting must be good, 'cause it looks like the others are heading to Denver to hide.

A sudden brightness -- sunset transforms the languid silver sky into blueberry punch with floating scoops of orange sherbet. The darkest hour may be just before the dawn, but for this twilight moment it's working the other way around. And it's only a moment... a heightened experience that won't last.

The crickets grow louder, the squirrels run faster, the children laugh harder, and I am compelled to linger out here, my thoughts not wanting to surrender to all that awaits within... my dreams reminding me of all that's incomplete within. Outside feels less lonely, more hopeful somehow. Without the confines of walls and a roof, I am not alone.