There is a smell to the early summer night, a certain loamy scent of the earth cooling from the naked sun’s heat, the warm air circulating the fragrance of cut grass, bark and pine as it travels leisurely between the leaves and needles and dances over the thinning lawns, the faint odors of cooking smells from open windows, and something else that is indescribable and sensual, fertile and yearning. Friday nights are shifting a bit from the usual TV indulgence into open window connective and creative time – a chance to catch up on the week’s unclosed loops and make new plans for the weekend.