The Way that Light Touches a Girl

Mornings lately have been stunning, light-touched and warm. Since night comes so dark and so early, I want to hold on to that. I take pictures; walk through the yard; smell fire and the cool, sharp perfume of winter on the air.

I'm still a little bit absurdly in love with our new home. Driving through the mountains, the sky is bigger and hazier and more beautiful than it is anywhere I've ever lived–even Florida, land of the thunderheads. I ask Jordan why our ancestors didn't settle here, why i...