Chester and I danced tonight. And as we did, the world was beautiful and loved.

I loved Chester, if only for his grace and poise– the flowing gait of a well-bred English Setter. We danced through the valley, and I loved its air, if only for being cool and full of the smell of summer. We danced on a hill, and I loved the its air, if only for being warm again and full of Wyoming’s summer sunset. I loved the wind at my back, pushing me on. Encouraging me. I loved the wind in my face, filling my hair, if only for making me fight for that last half mile. Challenging me. Hearing the quiet dirt roads, the waving neighbors, the laughing children, the barking dogs, the silently decaying cars, parked on front lawns. The llamas and the rolling, cow-spotted prairie, stretching greenly to infinity and the Rocky Mountains beyond…

I saw the last colors of the running sun, handing off the baton of yet another summer day to the chasing moon. Chester saw a rabbit. He chased the rabbit while I chased the sun, until the leash pulled us stumbling together. And we danced. Chester changed his mind and ran toward home, as hard as I ran away. I braced my arm, and we collided apart. We danced. Sometimes in step, sometimes stepping on each other. Each step without direction, but each step with the assurance that we were meant to dance. And that was enough.

And back home. Chester is locked up for the night. My guitar is strung and tuned and there’s a song welling up inside me. It beckons to me, to us… shall we?