Providence from my backyard, looking into the small park, two...

Providence from my backyard, looking into the small park, two nights ago:

Were it July I would tell you to scan the flick and flutter in the glow of the lamplight for just the kinds of summer bugs—gnats and mosquitos—you should expect to find swarming there. But it is February and my gloved-hand shook while I took the video. There are no bugs to swarm in that golden cast, no bats to swoop and arc to catch them. Look closer into that green-yellow glow and what you’ll find isn’t so much the soft drift of snowflakes—something from a holiday movie—but the spat and sputter of ice, like a wayward toss of flaked salt.

It’s not summer, but I wonder if I might convince you of it.

I would, I could, have stood and watched it for longer than makes sense. But the dogs were disinterested, tugging their leashes, asking to go back inside.