serenade

Night was falling.  I was washing the front window of the bakery where I worked.
As I stood there, scrubbing away at the glass, a group of boys in their early teens approached on the sidewalk.  Distracted by mentally re-hashing the events of the day, I didn't pay them any attention.
Once they came to where I stood, they paused for a moment.  Then, as they turned to move on, they began to sing to me.
"This is the night, it's a beautiful night, and we call it bella notte!"