As I turn into my neighborhood, the last of the cars following me gets swallowed by the trees lining the road. The pavement is wet and gritty, I love the sound so I roll down my window and drive slowly toward my street. The bit of fog surrounding each looming streetlamp matches perfectly with the crushing of tiny pebbles and gravel on the asphalt. I’ve missed the smell of a humid night’s air in the woods, it provides a nostalgic comfort to me but I can’t possibly stay here for too long.