I wear my sunglasses at night. I have them tucked in my hair, holding back the vengeance of humidity. I wear them because I'm out past my intended mission, I've overstayed the day in my anxiousness to do it all. But sometimes, I roll on the edge and mindfully zip out into the cool velvety darkness. Welcome to my Thursday.

I went out Thursday for an evening of croquet by the light of paper Japanese lanterns and rode about 15 miles to do so. The lemonade was weak, the game was strong, and a good time was had by all in attendance. And by the light of a bursting moon, we rode home. We, my husband and I, have headlights and tail lights on our bikes which indulges in our sense of adventure and curiosity. And while most "normal" people are home watching the Olympics, we were out drinking in the dewy hours before anyone "normal" finds it. We are riding through the silver thicket of the moon and sailing through the coolest air of the summer and we are happy.  

Get headlights and tail lights. Drink the sweet moist darkness in your neighborhood as you pass the curtained windows with the eerie glow of gold, silver and bronze.