Saturday, August 28, 2010


The stars hung bright in the dark sky as I tumbled through the brush, a cup of cider sloshing in my hand. I stood chatting with the college's president and his wife about their time in Kenya, and cold tendrils of silvery air bit at my nose and hands. Eventually I moved into the circle of students around the bonfire, and sat huddled with Julie as we sang hymn after hymn.

By the time we left the warmth of fire and song, the moon was high in the sky--so bright. Julie, Nathan and I walked to the car. Beside us a freshly-harvested field yawned, stretching up to the sky. Grabbing Julie's hand, I ran up the hill, toward the tip of stars. Throwing arms in air, we twirled and twirled. Laughing, we fell to the ground and stared up at the spinning skies.

Like drunk sailors, we tripped back down the hill and piled into the car. Living in this land of visible stars and rolling hills and August-chill is a bit like wandering around in a dream-world. Guess it's a good thing I'm quite comfortable dreaming.


  1. This seems like a distant twinkling light to me.
    You feel far away when I read this.

    I had no one to pull me into the thundering deluge last weekend.

  2. You'll have to start pulling yourself, my dear.