It's 8:45 on Monday evening and I've just returned from sitting on Miss Melba Covin's veranda, talking about nothing in particular. Miss Melba lives across the street from me.

It was cool outside and the crickets were chirping, although the major chorus hasn't started yet. The moon is full and was rising above the trees. It has a ring around it. I guess that means it's going to rain.

Something is in bloom and it smelled sweeter than honeysuckle.