A spring day: slant sunlight, drifts of plum blossom and magnolia petals all over the sidewalks, a slight breeze. A great day for blowing bubbles. 

I watched Bella leap and skip and marveled at her long, muscular body. Three years ago she stumbled toward her first confident steps. Three years have passed like a puff of wind, like a scrap of song.

Every day, incomprehensible miracles. I’ve been imagining Ceridwen as she clears away the books, postcards, tickets, and annotations of her brother’s life. Our stories unfold quickly, they’re over soon, time is as profligate as unpetaling fruit trees in spring. Nothing to do but love every glistening moment.