The Blue Snowball Nebula won't show itself without a telescope and more patience than most people own — and the lake mirrors every star overhead. I've been here long enough to stop pretending the night air required anything from my wardrobe. What took you so long?
Dione spent half the night skating Saturn's edge while Tethys vanished into his shadow — I watched every minute from the garden wall and never quite made it back to bed. The sun found me first. Care to see what it's already claimed?
Jupiter and the Beehive Cluster pressed right against the last sliver of Moon before dawn — I had the window open since three and now I can't bring myself to leave the sheets. Care to see what the early light found instead?
Eleven centuries of embroidery and someone finally decided to let people look at it again — I've had every textile manuscript I own spread across the desk since I heard, and somewhere around the third book the robe stopped cooperating. Care to come see what's got me so distracted?
Three days brewing and the color still isn't right — though I'll admit I got distracted watching the afternoon light do interesting things to this shirt. Want to see what I mean?
The Aurigids are being miserly tonight and the Moon is stealing half of what little they offer — I walked out to the hillside to get away from the cottage lights and stopped pretending the blanket needed to cover anything the moonlight hadn't already found. Care to come see what it's claimed?
Venus is practically whispering in Spica's ear tonight — less than two degrees apart and both glowing like they've got a secret. The garden bench is warm and I've stopped pretending the evening needs anything from my wardrobe. Care to come see what all the fuss is about?
The violets didn't care what day it is, and honestly, neither do I — the garden had me before the library could. Care to see what the morning light found first?
The manuscript was getting good, and then the afternoon sun moved across the floor like it had better ideas. Warm rug, shameless light, and I lost the argument completely. Want to see what won?
There's a dying star's ghost hanging in the Swan tonight, and it takes patience to coax it out of the moonwash — so much patience I forgot I wasn't wearing anything. Want to come see what the moonlight's already found?