The first time the ice cream truck visits our neighbourhood each spring is a wonderful moment. I just heard the same little melody it has played for years as it slowly made its way down our street. I'm not indulging, but it's a sweet moment, coupled with the gentle plop of basket balls going through hoops and the laughter of the players. That sound will continue well after dark. I may not live here forever, but I love the sound of a city neighbourhood on a mild evening.
I'm sitting in my papasan watching the sky turn beautiful colours. Magic!