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.
Art.
Extravagance.
Natural alignment.
Being present.
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.
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