On the night before your birthday, you should sleep out under the raspberries.

~Anastasia

 Fireflies. Bullfrogs. Occasional glimpses of stars in the cloudy sky. Dark pine silhouetted across an open sky. Two cars, a few dogs, mostly quiet. Quiet. Quiet.

Awakened during the night only by logistical issues. Where is the pillow? I’ve edged off the therma-rest. Where’s my extra blanket? My head is cold.

And then they start. Robins. Blue jays.

My first image: pine silhouette, open sky, and the thinnest, most stunning sliver of the moon hanging with a few wispy scattered clouds that almost immediately hide its glory.

Happy birthday to me from Mother Earth.

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