My Favourite Time of the Year.

I love the first warm night of the year.

This isn't a deep symbolic thing about the changing of seasons and the circle of life. I love the first warm night of summer because it lets me hide. This first night, without a hint of chill in the wind, opens my world. I am not a fan of the light. I like to walk the world and not see others. My favourite memories are these nights, with friends--a cloak of night, a cloak of friendship.

Super cheezy, I know.

But there is a tangible effect to the warm late spring air, encircled by those who you let hold your heart. It's fucking magical. I don't mean that in some new-age way. I mean a real and profound way to get over the childhood nonsense that makes me want to hide, and to be present in the public space of our world. That is magic.

Warm nights and close friends let me hide from the past and be present.
Real magic.