On a night like tonight, when the clouds are high in the eastern sky and taller, it seems, than some states are wide––when they reflect the last glow of the sun behind me in the west, hovering just above the mountains and radiating a backwash of light, a mirrored sunset, how can I sit indoors and not lay in the grass with Duncan at my side, looking down on the baseball diamonds and simply enjoy the fact that this moment is my here and now, that all my steps have led me to this beautiful, wondrous evening on the side of the hill? This is a marvelous night, with a cool wind coming from the south and the promise of heavy thunderstorms later, the smell of electricity heavy and rich in the air, like the flavor of a penny on the tongue. I can no more sit and write and ignore the other-side-of-my-window-world than I could go without telling those I love that I love them.
If you need us, Duncan and I will be in the long grass near the field. We'll be waiting.