This Moment: 7:03 A.M. December 10,2011

The fireplace glows a pumpkin orange in the almost dark. Streetlight globes burn like torches. The light is otherworldly, perhaps because the lunar eclipse is suspended to the west over the shallows of the lake. The small dog whines a three syllable plea to be let out. The old dog eyes me from her pillow. She has aged in the last two months. My daughter enters the room and joins me on the bed. The light is coming on. Soon the birds will sing the day open.