We spent a night at a Forest Service cabin on Rock Creek this weekend. It's an annual tradition. The first time we spent a weekend there Emma was only 8 months old. That was fourteen years ago and we've managed to make it happen every year so far. On the drive up we oohed and aahed over the newborn cows, some old enough to leap and play, while others still lay curled and damp. There were baby sheep too - so white and fuzzy we wanted to pull over and snuggle them. A bit of nasty weather hung over the mountains but never amounted to much. That evening the clouds cleared and the night sky was peppered with thousands of stars.