Last night was weird. A beautiful, fun, fabulous and inspiring night that detoured somewhere along the way down a path of strangeness. Not bad. Just,... strange. In that way that only random nights in little mountain towns can be. Full of coincidence, and familiar strangers.
As I crossed the street on my walk home I stopped in the middle and paused. Town was so still. Not another soul around. Just the twinkling lights of main street reflecting off shimmering black pavement. Even the drizzle fell silently so as not to interrupt the scene. When I continued walking I just kept a straight path right down the middle of the road and laughed to myself. Why not? Why not walk down the middle of the street in this sleepy little mountain fairy tale? When else will you ever get to do this? Just walk down the middle of the street. In the rain.
It was the stuff of dreams. It was beautiful. It was all mine. And I savored it.