When I go outside to the car because I forgot my jacket in the passenger's seat, and looking up to see black, sprinkled with silvery whites, a few blues, and the occasional red dots. Look but just a little further up into the bright darkness or down onto the pond surface, and there is the moon. Mottled with dull gray scars, I ponder that backlit glow for a moment. It looks not quite, but just enough, like grandma's hair before she died. I see the liquid light everywhere now. Dancing on the wet, cold blades of grass, then resting for a moment on the silky white petals of the lilies icing the pond. Glimmering in the dog's brown eyes. On my nails. In my dreams.