children. endless gobs of gorgeous light. heaps and heaps of love.
some days, such things can come in barrels and barrels. they pour down, and out, over shoulders, flowing across wooden stairwells in a cabin, in the woods, high above a city. with family. they happen, there, as the light falls across the sky calling the day awake. they fall into our laps, into our hearts, and into our memories.