Sitting alone on the front porch swing on a chilly, breezy, spring night.
Watching the sun go down: the vibrant, brilliant colors, slowly disappearing into the dusk just before night falls.
Doves calming cooing calling all birds home for the night; dogs occasionally barking to say, “We’re on duty.”
Quiet cars parked in the driveway for the night.
Lights going on up and down the neighborhood houses — up and down the street.
The swing squeaked back and forth, waiting…
No people were out walking. Day was done, and all is well in the neighborhood.
Then down the darkening street came a single black blur, moving closer. Closer, it became a walker holding two leashes in hand.
Closer still, trotting along at the end of the leashes, ready to end the walk, came my two energetic, curious dachshunds.
Needing a pat on the head – a word, “Good dogs,” a drink of water, four eyes pleaded for a treat, perhaps? Then they curled up in their beds.
Day was truly done.
All was well at my house.