For Mary, my dear friend, who called herself a farm girl though she was always so much more. A vintner, a quilter, a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, she believed in the enduring grace of family and friendship.
She taught me that you cannot outrun time, but you can embrace it, every minute and every loved one. She believed in this book when I was not yet certain I believed in myself, and her encouragement gave me the courage to continue.
For Steve, my husband of thirty-five years, who taught me that the stars are meant for dreaming.
For my mother, Kate, and for George, who stood faithfully beside her through every season of our lives.
And for all those who walked beside me along the glowing canal, believing in the magic of stories even when the water was dark.
Mary, I will forever miss you. In these pages, you remain.
With love, always.