Late Night Wanderlust

SLC, December, 2000.
The snow has not fallen yet, but the night is good and chilly, possessing the silence that only comes with Winter. Drifting through the streets, I look up and down, trying to decide between sidewalk and sky. The air grabs my senses. It is infused with mountains and trees and I wonder how the Rockies manage so easily to tiptoe through these man-made structures, almost unnoticed. The sidewalks are empty. They are cracked with Time but their speckles and lines lead me from one squared out slab to the next, some more crumbly than others. I look forward and see faint reflections where the dewy air meets asphalt. Their combination creates an inviting, shiny glaze. Together, they say, “Come, keep walking, it’s a beautiful night.”






La, I really enjoy your blog. And whenever you wax serious and eloquent I feel like you are taking the words right out of my head. Only you say it much better.
I love the sense of freedom when I read this. There’s nothing quite like walking around at night.