There’s something magical about the night.
As a child, it was rare that I would ever go out at nighttime. When we did go out in the late hours, it always turned out to be an event. For example, those Harry Potter book release parties taking place in the hours before midnight were one notable exception. Similarly, once or twice, we made our way to the bowling alley at like 10pm on New Year’s Eve to roll in the new year. Then, there were other more ordinary, yet still special night outings including when we strolled along the Las Vegas strip in the late evening to take in all the sights and lights, as well as the time when I was elementary-school aged and my cousin and I changed out of our pajamas to take a late-evening trip with our parents to the mall on the most beautiful of whims.
Perhaps, it is for these reasons that I associate going out at night with magical experiences. My most recent night adventure took place on the 4th of July holiday. Although I am in favor of celebration, I don’t make any grand effort to celebrate Independence Day (unless I get invited to a party, which was not the case this year). That is to say that I was just chilling at home when the neighbors began to shoot up fireworks into the night sky.
Somehow my siblings and I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood in the midst of all this after 9pm. This seemed like an unusual decision to me as the only time I remember us all going on an intentional walk around the neighborhood at night had been on Halloweens past years and years prior. Regardless, I changed out of my pajamas (yeah, I’m not a night owl) and I was eager to embark on another (mini) twilight adventure. With headlamps in tow, we took off into the night.
The neighbors were having a fourth of July party and at intervals of a few minutes’ bright yellows, greens, and pinks would flare up over head. There were more people than I would have expected to see out and about at such an hour — a group of teens as well as a group of middle-aged women also seemed to be taking a late stroll through the neighborhood as well.
On our walk, we told stories — wild college tales, weird encounters, and just creepy stories that we had read about online. Some of these stories could have easily been turned into a work of short literature or into a screen play (…they still might well, one day 😉 ). In the darkness, it was easy to play out all of these tales in vivid detail in one’s head, when making eye contact is not something to concern oneself with. We walked up and down the street, just talking; the air was cool, and the time flew by. Also, because we are siblings there was no “parting of ways” after our mini adventure, which meant that the chats and bonhomie continued on as we piled back into the house.
Nothing wild happened, but the night was memorable all the same. Meandering the streets at night is not the typical way to celebrate the fourth, but it turned out to be the best Independence Day holiday that I have had in years.
Wishing you beautiful days and nights.