Happy New Year
I can't remember what I was doing this time last year. It was
That was last year.
This year I find myself looking at the sunset through a pair of large picture windows. There is a barn and a silo and a vast stretch of land swathed in the colors of dusk. A thin metal reindeer stands patiently on the grass waiting to be lit. All morning a mist had obscured the view but now you can see far into the distance where some woods quietly melt into the dark. A fire sits crouched by my feet as I watch the trees take on spectral forms. In a few moments it will be time to turn on the lights and return to objects their familiar shapes. The blinds will be drawn, the twilight replaced by electric lamps, and the house will fill with the chic, urban fuss of revelry. Only the reindeer, waiting patiently on the lawn outside, will witness in the sky the small flowering of the moon.