"About seven o'clock you could hear the chairs scraping back from the tables, someone experimenting with a yellow-toothed piano, if you stood outside the dining-room window and listened. Matches being struck, the first dishes bubbling in the suds, and tinkling on the wall racks, somewhere, faintly, a phonograph playing. And then as the evening changed the hour, at house after house on the twilight streets, under the immense oaks and elms, on shady porches, people would begin to appear, like those figures who tell good or bad weather in rain-or-shine clocks."
- Dandelion Wine, Ray Bradbury
Sweet summer nights cast a spell with the bluish dusk sky, the nighttime crickets and the soothing stillness of the rain enriched earth. These nights are the key to the magic that is summer.
[All photos taken by me.]