On my walk home the street was pretty quiet. There was a kid with a longboard walking home. A couple people who seemed like they were getting home from work, like me. There was a nice cool breeze and it carried what smelled like a campfire. I later passed a house that seemed to have a small gathering in the back yard, with a charcoal grill going. It was charcoal, not a campfire, that I was smelling. It smelled nice. I heard one really loud bird getting louder and louder as I walked. When I came underneath a tree I looked up and saw a really fat orange and grey bird, singing at the very top of the tree. It's nice to be home.