Our family has wandered Epcot more times than we can tally. Of course, the early part of the year, during the Festival of the Arts, is my favorite time (all the colors, the chalk dust, the way it turns the park into a living canvas). Last trip, we stayed late, until the park emptied out, and I sketched Spaceship Earth’s silhouette by the flicker of those beautiful “geodesic triangles”.

Then when the bustle was gone we just lingered as long as we could (until the cast members lovingly nudging us toward the exit). Where there had been guest shouts and laughter, now the entrance loop music seemed like it was just for my wife and I.

If you’ve ever lingered past closing, you understand, that magical change when the park feels like it’s just yours, the music carrying you out. That hollow ache settled in as we boarded the monorail, watching the colors of the park slip behind the palms.