Lantern

What is your favorite weather?

Mine is the time just before a storm. The wind is blowing and sending showers of leaves spiraling onto the sidewalk. The trees are showing the silvery undersides of their leaves in a sign that rain is coming. And on days like this, there is a time between dusk and full dark when the sky turns a blue so deep it looks more ocean than sky, with clouds charging like waves overhead.

I love to take walks on almost-nights like this. All down my street, the windows of houses glow bright gold. Sometimes I can see little movements behind the windows: a man in a sweater opening the fridge, a kid kicking a soccer ball down the hall, a cat sitting in the windowsill swishing her tail. They speak of warmth, comfort, safe harbor from the coming storm. And in that space, where the deep blue of the sky meets the gold of a window, a threshold forms: a crossroads of blustering sky and glowing sanctuary, where the great roving darkness meets a beacon of light.

I’m trying something new this month. Each season, I will release a special colorway in the Starry Meadow pillow. This season’s color is called Lantern. It is a field of deep blues punctuated by dots of gold, like the tiny bright windows of my neighborhood lit against the coming storm. Together, these blues and gold embody both the allure of the mysterious and the glow of the hearth. Both beckon to us: if we didn’t feel called to the wide dark sea, we would have no need for lighthouses.