“Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.” // Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Lately, nights at our house have been spent by the fire, under a blanket, reading a book.
Night has become my favorite part of the day. It’s never exciting or adventurous, and I am okay with that.
(The sun setting and the moon rising, as seen from our house.)
(This post was originally published on our sticks or stones blog, which is no longer in publication.)