There's nothing like sunset from the air. I saw it two weeks ago and have been dreaming of it ever since. Now, I'm looking at it from the ground. Just as miraculous. Just as worth it to be alive, for those five minutes in the day when the sky turns golden and pink and purple. Here, I've spent the day failing to dance with my feet, but it felt good anyway. My reward? I get to dance with my eyes. Never turn a good sunset (or sunrise, for that matter) down.

I guess I'm in a very good mood today. I've been thinking about miracles. The little ones and the big ones. I talked to the Tin Soldier yesterday. For the first time in months he was happy. I guess that's what happens when you let it all go for a dance in the rain. The good news is a possibility. Perhaps he won't be tin for much longer. But the past never leaves you. Hopefully, I'll be there soon, too. I can fill the tin with something other than emptiness like he filled me with disbelief and no way to left to doubt. It's hard to be a skeptic when miracles happen and people come back from the dead, right? This is one ghost I will not dance for. I'll dance with him. And even though I can't dance well, it'll feel just as satisfactory. That's always how it is when you're lead by someone who was born to be a dancer.

The sunset's over and life calls. At the moment, at least, I can say that there's always tomorrow.