Outside, the effects of climate change make once fluffy clouds look more like a grim suicide note scribed across the sky. Inside, my bookshelf holds novels, poetry, a kalimba made from a tin can, and a sage bundle. My two-year-old daughter grabs the bundle and a book. She holds the sage to her nose; her eyes smile in delight. Years from now, when reading, she’ll recall that smell of sage and the words in her book will sparkle, float off the page. She’ll look out the window. For a moment, the clouds in the sky will rewrite their grim note to include the possibility of a brighter tomorrow.