Last night, I was watching the stars. I breathed in the fresh, Oregon, mountain air, streaming through our sliding-screen bedroom door. The omnipresent scent of ponderosa pine and sage was pleasantly underscored by the buzz of insect musicians.
Majestic, infinite, starlight beacons, eons of years old, tried to lift my mind and spirit to heavenly heights. Magnificent, twinkling orbs spoke to me about the majesty and blessings of life. But still, I must confess to feeling a little down and blue.










