It is a strange moment - a change in the wind, perhaps? - a shift ever so slight when I discover that the next time your eyes drift skyward and you brightly propose, "It's nearly the season for us to go stargazing!" I will not wander through the valleys of misplaced envy, grace, and doubt, before laughing, sighing, and shrugging, "Yes! We should! Well... Goodnight!" That instead I will send my eyes aloft to meet those flecks of dreams and dew, before laughing, sighing, and shrugging, "Well... How about tonight?"