Here I sit, on my blessed North Forty, listening to the last of the birds take to the trees for sleep, watching the fluorescent flit of the fireflies as they rise from the ground for their night dance, on this, the longest day of the year. This is, undoubtedly, my favorite day of the year.
Dusk is rapidly giving way to night. The wailing insects have taken on a respectful tone. The birds have fallen asleep. The traffic sounds and the whir of the neighbors' air conditioners are all that compete with the blissful silence. The mid-blue of dusk is giving way to the indigo blue of night.
A certain peace pervades my soul as I let the beauty of the first humid summer night wash over me.
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