The air is warm with summer, but light and gentle.
The first of the crickets are chirping in rhythm, hidden in a forest of grass and
the lonely barn owl hoots through the trucks of birches and branches of pine.
My dad's footsteps come down the hall; firm and steady.
"Goodnight Sweetpea" he whispers as he passes Ashley's door.
"Goodnight Boo" he says softly as he treads past Katie's room.
"Goodnight Peanut" he murmurs as turns the corner by my door jam.
I count the pinpoints of light in the sky; and make a wish before turning over and sighing.