Lights on my Piazza

Last night there was a party on my Piazza, it was a big one.  The street on which the Piazza is located is a dead end, with very little parking available, so my street (both sides) was loaded with parked cars from the top of the hill to my house.  I watched couples, singles, and groups walking up the street.  I wondered where they were going. 

Not long after I could hear voices, and (let's face it) I am nosy, so I followed the sounds until I discovered from whence they came, it was my Piazza.  Oh, it was lovely, pockets of people chatting here and there.  I wish I could have heard the conversations, I wish I could have seen the food, tasted it, I wish I could have drunk whatever it was they were drinking. 

What fun is it to have Piazza so close and not be invited?  If they only knew my envy.

The party lasted for hours, finally, long after dark I could hear voices outside my house, and car engines start; I knew the party had finally broken up.  Shortly after, I was closing up my house, and walked into the office with the window I can best see my Piazza.  The lights were still on, but there was not a person in sight.  I bet the lady of the house was in her kitchen packaging left-overs and washing wine and cocktail glasses.

I kind of had a warm and fuzzy feeling.  Funny, isn't it, how such simple things can give us pleasure, an umbrella, chairs and streamers of twinkling lights.  The best things in life really are free.