Magic Night

It was such an awesome evening that we could hardly come inside. We ate dinner on the patio, and brought out some ice cream for dessert. A hummingbird hovered in front of the trellis, snacking on nectar from the orange trumpet flowers covering the vine. Our neighbor's son and his friends were jumping their skateboards on a rail in their driveway. Since it was only 83 degrees we needed more time out in it. So we donned the boots and helmets and went for a motorcycle ride.

It's amazing how quickly you leave behind the city when you go northeast from Las Vegas. We paralleled the Air Force base runway for several miles and it felt like that scene in "Top Gun" when Maverick raced his bike alongside the Tomcats taking off. Jet after jet swooped into the air drowning the sound of the Harley. They're doing a multi-national training exercise right now, and so the night will be filled with jet noise this week.

It wasn't even hot. Usually this time of year, a ride into the desert is like a trip through a convection oven. But the further we got from the city, the cooler the breeze on our faces. Well, cool may be a bit of a stretch, but it wasn't hot. It smells good in the desert. The plants are mostly tough and hardy, and one way to protect your scrawny little plant-self from predators or the moisture-sucking heat is to have a pungent resin. At the end of warm day the dirt, rocks, and plants all give off a scent, and it beats the smell of hot city pavement.

By the time we returned, the sky was dark, stars were blinking, and the finger-nail moon was a silver curve over the black mountain outlines. People were sitting in their front yards, bicycling up the street, or just walking in the unseasonal, fantastic, moderate evening air. All we needed was a waft of ocean breeze, and you'd have thought we were in San Diego.