Something recently prompted me to recall my road trip to Long Island, New York from earlier this year: while it opened with what I can best describe as much hope and excitement, it wasn't long before the exclusivity of it all got to my sister and I. However, the disappointment of not finding access to the gold coast we drove hours to see was soon overwritten with that warm breed of contentment that begins in your very bones and radiates outward until the entire universe seems to share the sentiment. Delicious brick oven pizza, a dessert cannoli, and the company of my sister beside a window that flooded us with light-initially bright, but grading to increasingly moodier blue as the conversation carried on (the only indications that time was not at a standstill). Upon leaving, locating a limp moon in the night sky. There isn't a favorite memory in my collection without a moon at the outset.