Today was warm and rainy. It felt familiar. The skies were their usual grey, and snow is still on the ground outside, but hearing rain on the windows today was refreshing; it was something I am used to and for whatever reason it helped to still me today. I had some sweet moments with the little boy I take care of; he counted something for the first time, which doesn’t seem very significant but everything at his age has a sense of magic to it.
I came home and opened the windows in our bedroom. I could hear children in the neighborhood crossing the street to play at the playground. I put on Iron and Wine (especially this one) and let it repeat for hours while I cooked and cleaned and called my Opa (german for “grandfather”) to wish him a happy birthday. We talked about fishing and his upcoming trip to Atlantic City. Then I read for a little bit. I’m reading The Goldfinch, along with everyone else right now. Its with good reason that we all keep hearing about people reading this book; its an incredibly beautiful work of fiction, with sentences like, “He was a planet without an atmosphere.” Bravo, Donna Tartt, bravo.
Don’t you sometimes love small, quiet moments by yourself?