Late last night, fueled by the residual adrenaline of a hectic court day and the leftover caffeine from a combination of migraine medicine and sweet tea at supper, I went outside to walk around for a while. There is nothing like darkness, nature’s darkness broken only by distant starlight, to remind a person of her smallness and the smallness of the things and thoughts that cultivate discontent. I moved away from the cones of light cast by the floodlights at the corners of the house, being careful not to step in one of the holes that Owen has dug in the front yard, and made my way toward the edge of the field that will soon be planted with cotton seed.