The quiet of backfiring mufflers, droning Interstate traffic, and resurgent crickets. All after the company leaves. A still night, with light pollution blotting out the stars. All after a long week’s work. Autumn chill after a return of summer heat echoes of pitter-patter from our great niecces

Douglass Park, where we piled on a merry-go-round and spun round & round so fast that some of us fell off. And all of us saw the sky whirl round even standing still. The streets of Weber Park, my neighborhood in then North Tarrytown (now Sleepy Hollow), where we played tag, hung out in each…