Nathaniel Pratt

Fly Me To The Moon

I gazed at the sunset just before the sun dipped into the horizon. The vivid pink and orange of the evening danced across the sky while crickets and frogs chirped in the creekbed nearby. Cows mooed in the distance, the soft summer breeze blew along the porch disturbing the wind chimes and making them tinkle together. I sat on my porch rocking chair drinking in the summer evening, letting the warm breeze caress my face. In the background, a radio crackled with static as it played oldies… music from my parents’ and grandparents’ childhood. The opening lines of “Fly Me to the Moon” by Frank Sinatra. Beth and my mother's favorite song.