Taken in that golden hour when everything feels right. I talked to Maren earlier, the fullness of my heart still shining. I rowed in the basement, the low light of autumn dancing through the trees and in my eyes. Blaring Strange Days on the hi-fi as I stretched on the stairs, I caught the glimmer of glass shards, remnants of Tuesday’s broken bottle. One hollow bounce before shape shifting.

Birds and cats beckoned, more of that exquisite light, too, crowding the tight spaces before a bounteous explosion. I ate cereal and read, squinting. Rain is coming.

Silence reigns and is filled with all that I cannot capture. This softness, this gratitude, this love.