What do you like best about the night?

After the sun sets, I watch the movement of Van Gogh's clouds of soft blue with slashes of lavender-purple and puffy plum in higher spots, Pollock's marshmallow white throws, melting and pulling away like powdered sugar on a warm buttered crepe.  The softness of the night, how it sounds, what it sounds like, why it sounds the way it does.  I relish the quiet, sitting in the backyard, on the porch swing, a rustling tree is letting the wind cut in as if it were on a dance floor.  The leaves aren't too keen about being disturbed and ruffled, similar feelings as tree.  I hear the night's sounds, bugs scurrying over and through the rocks, pick up bare feet.  I see the stars making friends with one another, a twinkle here, one there, eu a couple sparkling my direction, smiling brilliance longingly in unison.  I could get lost in those stars talking with them, watching how they answer, a short blip, or a longer pulsing, evened tone heart pumps, radiating an energy of love.  Smell the evening and what's it saying?  The moon hovering between clouds, delicately whispering, I give you peace...and pure contentment.