Taps

Tonight, at a little after 8:00, the sound of a lone trumpet drifted through an open window.  I walked outside into the cool night air and stood in my front yard as the soulful echo of Taps lingered over the neighborhood.  In front of me, cars whizzed by carrying families home from a day at the beach, couples on their way to the movies, parents home to their children.

As the last strains of the melody lingered, I looked up into a clear night sky; the silver sliver of the moon, the bright light of the stars, the movement of planes crossing above. 

Hard to believe that nine years have passed.