When a cool August night presents itself like this, sweet profundity after a rainstorm with fragrance of faint licorice among the tree boughs, accompanied by the bolero of “Lagrimas Negras,” I lay my back against the picnic table in the secrecy of midnight’s veranda… and savor. Savor my youth, savor my mere presence, savor the city glistening below me. Starry elegant night between parted dark clouds.

Several tealight candles are lit, a glass of warm jasmine tea in my palms, the hustle of the week behind me. This night is the only night of the week that is truly, selfishly, mine. Luxuriant, indulgent and solitary precious time. Stay…stay like this…silent conversations with those whom I love.

How I love this very moment, how rare these moments last before we perish. A small fireplace crackling inside the house, and me, completely entwined with the evening breeze under the trees, gazing at constellations, galaxies and the brilliance of Venus, complex-simplicity.

Spanish Words of the Day, celestial marvels: “meteorito” | “asteroides” | “cometas” | “la Luna” Moon | “la Tierra” Earth | “planetas” planets | “estrellarse” to crash spectacularly, to founder | “arder” to burn, to become aflame | “chal” a wrap | “cenizas” ashes

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