This morning as I step out of the barn, done with chores, the sun is still hiding and the deep indigo sky stretches out before me from one horizon to the next. That backdrop gives the stars, still bright and dancing, a stage for their performance not yet finished. I lift my chin to see the constellations stuck to the dome of blue, like window clings wrapped to the curve of the atmosphere.
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The grass gives way with each step I take toward the house, crunching beneath my feet, dressed in a thin veil of ice. As the light from the house reaches out to greet me, the grass suddenly explodes in a brilliant display of flickering, glistening, sparkling lights. Like the glitter I would find left behind, all those years ago, after Abby would dance in her fairy outfit and stop to give me a hug.
Read MoreI walk amidst the flipflops that have been strewn on the floor of the mudroom in an attempt to locate my heavy winter muck boots, and I feel a pang of longing in my heart. The summer-like weather of the weekend, filled with sunshine and warm wind, seems so long ago.
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