potluck

I spent this evening out in the goldening glow of the summer sun, listening to the guitar and fiddle and keyboard and drums drums drums played by my library coworkers. Dipped my feet into the water of the fountain at whose edge I ate my mock chicken salad and tater tots and fresh fruit salad and dark fudge brownies. And when we were done and the potluck packed away and the maracas put back in their place, I walked a half mile back to where I'd left my car barefoot, swinging my sandals by their straps and stirring around in my mind all the ways the sounds and the silence fit together. I am thinking to myself: aha. I do understand now the whys of summer.