The breeze blew steadily through our house, in the front set of windows and out the back. Occasionally, it came in stronger gusts, and the leaves of our trees fluttered at their mercy. The temperature had found that elusive place of perfectly comfortable, and we enjoyed the evening as the sun made its slow descent behind the mountains. The boys began asking for s’mores, and my husband obliged since nice weather makes the experience much more enjoyable for parents responsible for 95% of the process. John went out back, dragged our copper firepit to the center of the yard, and began to fill it with wood. Upon lighting, the fire…