These are the days of weird light. The sun works half-time, its shift picked up by strings of bulbs wrapped around trees and porches, by darting headlights in freeway races, by flickering fire in all sorts of places. Stopping, sitting still, and listening are built-in themes of the season. I always think: “bring it on,” as I cycle through lists of memories and memories of lists. Let’s think about what we did. Let’s think about what we’re doing…