On the way back in tonight I passed a couple. They were suspicious because of the lateness of the hour. There was a storm far off on the horizon, but the air was so hot and thick that I could feel the pines embrace me as I passed beneath them and smell their sweetness like a fog. The clouds were bright in the sky, lit from below by the city and above by the moon. The homing beacon was out; it was a night of many shadows.