5:40 am and, miraculously, my entire family is still asleep. I tiptoe downstairs, put the water on, and think about that red and blue moon last night. Blue, for being the second one in the month, red for rising through the sultry, atmospheric haze of a late-August night. Our family walked home from my parents' house under that moon--crickets in stereo, the murky trickle of the Whetstone Brook, our skin bathed in that blue and pink haze. Owen fell asleep in Ty's arms, then Avah in the stroller. We kept walking for a while after they were asleep, grateful for these quintessential summer nights, for the cool wind, scented somehow with the far-off hurricane, and for our children, without whom we'd be made of a whole lot less love.
And now, from upstairs, "Mama?"
Good morning to you all.