In Berkeley

I walked uphill through the dusk. The leaves overhead were silhouettes, and the windows in inhabited houses glowed yellow. At one corner, a small gray cat turned and looked at me, plaintively. At another, a girl's voice floated out onto the street. "But then what?" rang out, three isolated words. Mostly the street was silent, though. I startled when a cricket shrilled.

As the sky darkened, I arrived back at the house without any wrong turns. Through the shadows, through the unknown streets, between the sleeping houses, under the silent trees--I am learning to find my way.