Pink stripes the sky this morning. I am alive with pink stripes too reflecting the wonder of the season, the stair steps of the year that seem to come together in December. We go to a party this morning that begins at 8. In the "old" days, when the children were young, the idea was to gather, eat early, each car handed a bag of cookies, and we'd head up north to find and cut the perfect Christmas tree. Now, the children are grown, and yet still we gather at the fragrant hour of 8 to reminesce and feast. Wonder fills me. Awe!