September 5, 2009 :: patio music, 2 am

At 10, we grab the wine and head outside. Bats swarm the stacks, flitting, flickering UFOs swooping insectivous snacks. Cicadias razz the trees, the back-and-forth call of the end of summer. We set the iPod in place, run the cords, light the devotional candles and pray to the alter of Costello, Lovett, Cash, then Sia, MacLaughlin, Mitchell. We sing and harmonize, clap hands and vow drum-offs and new lyrics once the sun hits the sky. The neighborhood churns along--OTPers from the bars to their cars to their suburbs, taggers chased by bearded vigalantes, late-night dog walkers. It's midnight, one, nearly two, and I catch Blake in the dim light of the Powerbook, DJing Rhapsody, and I am suddenly so in love with this night and my life.

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