The rays of the fading sun spread across the sky in the longest lines I've ever seen; it's as if they were whispering calm to me and they were not to be ignored.
The clouds reminded me of the "happy little clouds" that Bob Ross (the painter on PBS) used to paint; and I could hear his calming voice as his paint brush hit the canvas in his happy little strokes; I always wished I could create something as beautiful as he did; and although I couldn't create this with a paintbrush, I can surely capture it with a lens, and that makes me happy.
She is ever so happy to accompany me just about anywhere; saying pretty when I did and carrying her pretend phone (which happens to be a calculator); gathering up rocks and throwing them in the lake to make the clear glass ripple just so.
Standing under the majestic willow trees, we were dwarfed in comparison; add the trees to the sky and you have something out of a storybook; a tale I won't soon forget.
We watched the sun's descent for nearly an hour. I breathed it in; the sun's last rays; I soaked it up and told myself to remember this, pay attention to this, the right nowness of it all, this perfect extraordinary beauty doesn't happen every day...
Except the thing is, it does. It does happen every day. Some days you just need to search a little...
dig a little deeper...
open your heart instead of your eyes, because it's in the I love you mamas, and the hugs and the kisses and the laughter, and yes, it's even hidden in the squabbles and the tantrums and the tears.
Beauty is all around, and on this night I was right smack-dab in the middle of it all.
And, even though this is more of a pictureish listicle, I'm linking up with Stasha