Little to talk about at this time. I just always want to remember how beautiful the moon and stars looked behind the trees as I left Blue's house a few moments ago, the way their pinpoints of light tangle the branches, and the way the sky looks from my window now, Jupiter's glow being tipped into the brilliance of a tilted last-quarter moon.
In the openness of Idaho, the heavens have the space to move freely and unobstructed. Here, though, their steps of the dance must be more intricate. The view of constellations behind the trees of my home is a blessing I must not forget.