When my wife and I moved back to Arizona, to give our daughter a chance to be near more family, it was from an island in the San Juans, off the coast of Washington State.

We had a house that overlooked the harbor, and could watch the ferries come in. At night, all you could see were the strings of lights in the darkness, moving towards the dock like a deep-sea creature that had never seen any lights but its own.

The Christmas after we moved back here, my brother and I took our daughters (both born and raised their first few years on the island, and then ages 4 and 3, respectively) to Flagstaff to see Santa Claus at the mall. It was dark as we started for home, and the girls were happy and sleepy.

Suddenly, they were both awake, shouting, and joyfully plastered against the windows: “Look! Look, Dad! It’s a ferryboat!!!”

We were passing the power plant at Joseph City – which, with the smokestacks, and strings of lights, looked very much like the ferryboats in the islands. And the girls were thrilled.

We’ve since taken several trips there, in the evening, so that my daughter can stay connected to the place she was born. Because there is no harbor, but in the right circumstance, she can still see the ferries coming home…

[Note: This is the second entry of the day. I know, two in one day...yes, I'm procrastinating. I have a 5-7 page paper to write that's due tomorrow and it really isn't going anywhere, so whatever.] I like when you……