Yesterday afternoon we walked through the fields where George Washington and his troops once faught. We watched thousands of birds fly pell mell through the sky, alighting in a swirling vortex of black wings on the stubble of mowed-under corn. We walked hand in hand with the setting sun on our faces, staring in wonder at the tall old trees that have grown since the time when America was just earning it's independence. I treasure these moments of us outdoors laughing in the twilight like pieces of prized seaglass. What a way to end a year.