We had company coming tonight, which, considering the above should totally stress me out, but our guest is a wonderful, low-maintenance friend and even at this hectic time it's nice to have him. However, I was still feeling a bit revved up, as was wonderpup so we set out for a walk. The poor little guy has been a tad neglected these past few weeks. I stepped out the door, leash in hand, and barely crossed our property line before a wave of relief spread over me. It was just after 9pm and the sky was this amazing blue-black - I was trying to think of the Crayola crayon name that perfectly describes the color, which I can't do, but I can absolutely picture it. It was one of my favorites as a kid. But you know what a mean - that deep, earthy blue against which the trees stand out like shadows. Midnight blue, maybe? When you push down hard enough, but not too hard.
The moon was perfect and my entire street was filled with fireflies. I've seen a handful here and there already, but this was the first time they twinkled like stars all around me. Wonderpup pranced and wiggled, clearly recognizing how special the moment was, and the past few weeks of insanity melted away for a bit. It never ceases to amaze me how a simple situation or act can make you stop and finally catch your breath. I was just walking my dog on what happened to be a perfect summer night. I often find a similar solace in the kitchen, not when I am preparing anything in particular, but simply because the stars align and there is something therapeutic in the ritual.