12:22

A.M.  That's what time it was when I opened the deck door to bid my sweet ones good night.  We've been socked in by fog for over a week and then rain for the last two days.  The moisture is welcomed, despite the muddy mess it creates in the dry lot.

The rain sheets the horses had on last night were soaked and so heavy when I traded them out this morning for a dry one.  I debated about taking them off the horses this evening.  My three weather references on my mobile phone all said cloudy to partly cloudy for the night.  My years living in Central Oregon have taught me it's best to look out over those mountains and add my own forecast into the mix, and tonight it told me the rain was not done.  Sure enough, just after dark it started to rain again.  I could see the sky considering a clearing but with the anticipated winds, I have also learned it's best to err on the side of caution when it comes to strong gusts.

I didn't anticipate this crystal clear sky we have now.  If I weren't ready for bed, I would go down and take the rain sheets off the horses and let them bask in the stars.  The night air isn't frozen yet so it is fragrant with moist earth and trees and a touch of sweet wet wool.  It's fresh and alive.  I smile.

Yes, I do write about the stars often.  They are so magnificent and abundant it is hard not to be in complete awe.  I realize that for much of my adult life, I have lived in places where the star appearance has been minimal, drowned out by urban lights.  Only on vacations or trips out of town would I see what the night sky really could look like.  So now, every night that I can see stars, I lose track of time just gazing.  I smile.

With a wide open sky completely covered in stars, shooting stars are not uncommon.  Those were things that I would see only if I drove out to "the country" from the city, put down a blanket and waited.  And waited.  And if one happened by, it was truly incredible.  I still find it incredible but the drama is different.  I know that with patience, sometimes just a tiny bit, I will be treated to a fiery tail traveling at a speed I cannot fathom.  I smile.

So it is at this late hour, feeling blessed to have healthy animals, a roof over my head, food for all of us, wood burning in the stove, love of and for friends and family, talents to sustain me, good health and good humor that I look up into the powerful beyond and give my thanks.

And I smile.

Good Night Moon

As I do every night, I stepped out onto the deck to whisper down to the boys in the dry lot my wishes for a good night sleep, safety and good health.  While much of the country is suffering frigid temperatures, it's 45 degrees here at midnight.

The patchy clouds are doing their best to obscure the waxing moon; determined, she'll have none of that.  The storms from the Pacific Northwest are blowing across, committed to a duel with the Cascades; maybe they make it over the mountains to bring us moisture on the eastern side, maybe they don't.

Staring up to find the roadway of millions of stars called the Milky Way, I was mesmerized by the constellation Orion as it appeared to be drifting, detaching from its place high in the southern sky this time of night.  The sky started rotating, twirling, floating.  The satellites in orbit joined in the play, steadily moving in one direction while the billowy clouds moved opposite.

Unplugged.