Last Sunday morning I opened my eyes to find dots of sunlight hitting the west wall of our bedroom. The breeze in the cottonless cottonwood tree outside the window layered with the lace of our bedroom curtains made an unrepeatable cookaloris, dancing dots of sunrise light glittering like starlight across the eggshell surface.
They started high on the wall and descended until they graced her face, partially obscured by her pillow, still sound asleep. One beam landed on her eyelid and she didn’t flinch.
And it was beautiful. It made me happy and grateful.