I stood on the balcony, telling Yaw goodnight, and looked up through the branches of the oak tree at the masses of puffy white cloud moving through the dark sky.

The air was cooler, at long last. Not much cooler, but at least it wasn't still 85 degrees at 11 p.m. And the humidity was down quite a bit. I wished I had a bottle of wine so I could sit out in my chair and stare at the sky while sipping. Alas, all I had was beer. Not quite the same thing when I'm trying to get those creative juices flowing.

Wine is for thoughtfulness, artistic creation, philosophizing. Beer is for mindless partying or drinking at the neighborhood barbecue.

So I stood a few minutes more, watching the clouds move so a triangular gap opened up, revealing an opposing triangle of stars, twinkling like a mystical pair of eyes and a nose in the middle of the darkness. OK, so maybe I didn't really need the wine...