In Cabresto Canyon all was quiet and dark except for the last sliver of Moon winking at the Sun. The breeze skipped across the forest floor bringing the tingly, earthy scent of pine needles to the star-watchers. It then left the floor to dance in the heights imitating rain in the aspen leaves. I layed on the half-rotted deck, ancient, rusty nails prodded my back and legs whenever I moved. While Mrs. Anderson on one side and Chloe on the other pointed to the different constellations, Mama and I watched as the older stars crept nearer as newer ones appeared behind. I felt like the stars were so close that I could reach up and gather them into my pocket. As the breeze left for greater and higher games I watched puffs of steam rise across the deck from every frozen nose.
In Cabresto Canyon all was quiet and dark while nine cold and tired people dragged themselves inside to curl up by the fire and toast s’mores.
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