I sit with friends enjoying a quiet summer night, the light from a nearby light illuminating our faces and the smoke from the citronella wafting overhead to keep the swarms of insects at bay. Someone points up, a bat swoops through the dark night, bringing my attention to the shadows of the towering trees and crisp edges of a building not too far away. The Maine Woods?

Suddenly, a noise catches our attention. It sounds like horrific beasts hurtling through the forest with their terrifying growl. The serenity of the night is shattered as the beasts bound closer and closer. Then they stop, a dull rumble can still be heard, not far off. Like a hunter’s gun, they explode into the night, louder than before and faster in speed this time, their prey must be in sight. I hear them fade away as they pass by. For now, I am safe and can once again enjoy the night. I know, though, that it won’t be long before more venture by.

I am not deep in the woods, but simply enjoying a summer evening within a stone’s throw of a Center Street traffic light. It’s late and the sounds of the city have faded away. Truly, I feel like it’s another world. The trees, the bugs, the shadows, the quiet night air – one might never think of these things, living in such a place. And those menacing beasts? You guessed it, the loud thunder of motorcycles.

Shawn Favreau, Auburn