When the sun goes down and the lights go up even the least lovely town starts to look better.

Edges soften. Dust blends into dusk. Peeling paint and faded advertisements blur into each other, visually softening the harsh effects of the desert sun.

Signs of familiarity glow against the hazy backdrop of sky: Starbuck’s and Burger King and Dairy Queen issuing invitations to those who are out and about for a snack or a pick-me-up to help make it until dinner time.

Traffic is light and the side streets are quiet, resting up to be ready for the bursts of activity to come later.  Even the pigeons are quiet. The hedges along the sidewalks in the residential areas turn to shadows. The light-painted walls come forward, as if the streets have narrowed.

I walk away from the massage appointment in the cool air. Darkness falls completely.

It seems strange to arrive home after dark; the time change has made a difference. I climb the stairs to my kitchen and prepare my supper and turn on Netflix.

After I bit I realize  I’m hearing a strange rumbling noise and the screams of excited children from the street behind us. It sounds like a Ferris wheel. Now that I’m getting ready to go to bed, a party is starting. A band begins to play.

I turn on my sleep sounds app and lie down.