The Northern Lights came to my birthday party.
It was not yet 10:30, in town, with a nearly-full moon– but when we looked up from our backyard campfire, the sky was dancing in green and purple and white.
We cried out.
We climbed the swing set for a better look.
We ran into the (dark and quiet) street and marveled at this good luck.
Everyone said it was for me– a sign for my 33rd year and how fortuitous it would be.
This is a magical year– I felt it before the sky sent its message.
Living locally (rather than virtually).
We took no pictures, posted no status updates.
Instead we laid down on the still-warm asphalt and watched the sky above us shift, change and glow.
We savored good food, stared at flames, shared five conversations at once.
Here’s to being alive.