August 20, 2020

Sometimes I feel such tenderness, unexpectedly, for some part of our house. Often I feel helpless dissatisfaction instead, so I notice these special moments. Today it’s the tang of clear, golden green light gushing in the windows, leaves nodding in sharp detail behind the glass.  The kids and I washed the windows yesterday for the first time since we moved here, inside and out. And Cinnamon sleeping. Rumpled, threadbare sofa and all. And Luke reading on the window seat. Gentle color from other rooms.