Childlike wonder makes everything clearer (photo from Vintage at the Yard).
When summer comes I’ll look out this window to see nothing other than a beautiful mess of green from this tree.
The sky after the rain is a powerful thing. We’ve seen many such skies in the past week. Things live simultaneously in shadow and light.
In the shadows of a hospitalization, Peter discovered the joy of the window sill, the passing cars and barking dogs.
To combat the cold modernism, I used the extra space in my suitcase to bring blankets and pillows from my favorite room of the house to give me a moment of joy when I entered the room each night.
Are there better moments then coming home? It’s noisy and chaotic but, as she says, “there’s no place like home.”
And in that joy of reunion, we celebrated the birthday and death anniversary of my daughter Celeste. I put her momentoes around the room. An indescribably dear friend presented a homemade birthday cake, flowers, balloons and card written to Celeste.
Even in the midst of sadness missing her, we find joy in acknowledging her presence in Heaven.
Shadows and light live together in the aftermath of a rainy day.