Riding home from swim lessons is the closest touch we have with any semblance of an evening commute. But more thrilling than the long drawn out lines of red lights in front and white lights across, are the busy hunts for Christmas lights and glimpses of the moon. “I see the moon!” Kate shouts (in the volume that’s always just above preferable), “Do you think it will be on my side next?” says Luke, Emma is usually sound asleep. We shuffle through the neighborhoods above Capitola Village, looking for the best dressed homes in the pitch black night.
Finally, we come upon my favorite lane, uniformly lit with simple white lights, not too many frills, but each one so carefully outlined and able to be seen from far out. I slide my phone out the moon roof to attempt a capture, it’s pitiful in comparison but it’ll do. Luke quietly repeats the house numbers we pass, trying to remember the name of the street in case we return. Kate searches wildly for other houses as we go, pointing out each and every well lit home or tree. We eventually pull into our driveway again, as James opens wide the door and joyfully welcomes us home. Our lights are little, but they bring enough sparkle for the children to comment as they come in, tossing aside shoes and jackets and immediately warming from the fire.