I walked around our neighborhood this evening in the fading light, pushing Nate in his stroller. We were both content to be outside, looking around at the trees and the houses with the leaves crunching in our path.
I love walking around in the evenings, as the houses light up from the inside. I love to catch little glimpses through the windows, glimpses that are hidden in the bright sunshine. Everything seems so snug and cozy as the rooms are bathed in warm lamplight, with bookshelves lining a wall or flowers gracing a tabletop.
The early evening darkness of late fall is justifiably unpopular for many reasons: Kids have less time to play outside with friends. Workers emerge from their offices into the already-black night. The exhaustion the accompanies the end of a day creeps in too early and steals away the evening hours. The cold settles in quickly as the sun's rays fade away.
But peering at the welcoming squares of light, I appreciated the dusky blanket falling over our neighborhood. And then, as we breathed in the chilly air and shuffled through the fallen leaves, Nate and I made our way back to our own warm home, where our windows, too, glowed in welcome.