The back porch robin

There's something about summer nights. The ones that come at the end of 12+ hours of blue skies. A light breeze fights the heat to a draw, and you sit outside on your porch or your stoop or wherever it is that you like to do your pondering. Maybe a beach chair in your driveway, or your ass propped up on the trunk of your car. Cold drink in hand, maybe some music as a soundtrack, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains that we take for granted but really shouldn't. I don't want to live in a place that doesn't have mountains. I want the sun to disappear behind something, as if it's hiding. I don't want to see it crash into the ground, like something driven by one of those crazy test pilots in "The Right Stuff".