I moved here from Philadelphia a decade ago: alone but enthusiastic, scared but excited. When I miss home, I float along staring at the night sky and wonder whether my family is seeing the same moon as I am in that moment.

I love those Houston nights when dusk never ends; the moon doing its best impression of the sun. Hanging large in the sky, it washes the bayou in my backyard in a soft white that illuminates the evening and ripples off the water surface.