Sleeping under the stars

The balcony off our kitchen has become my new happy place. It’s where I always want to be, tending my plants, watching the birds, feeling the sun and the breeze. Larry says I’ve become solar powered, and maybe he’s right. But the other night I was lunar powered, too.

It was a full-ish moon, just past the solstice, the dusk was clear and warm and beautiful, and I just could not bring myself to go inside. I stayed to watch the sun set. Then I listened to the birds settle down. Then I watched for bats. It was past ten when I watched the fairy lights come on. Then I watched the stars come out. One by one, the stars in the Big Dipper appeared over me. I laid back on the couch and closed my eyes, to doze, but I left my glasses on so that when I opened my eyes I could see the stars and the silhouettes of my crooked willow trees, and the pretty lights strewn through my herbs. And that’s where I slept.

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