Touching....

It is the softest of touches, in the dark of the bedroom, my beautiful wife's hair gently tumbled into my hand. I could feel the delicate folds of the curl, the silky -ness of the oiled ends. I ran my fingers across my face and the rough stubble of my beard, all played out in my mind like a blind person with Braille.

As I cycled into the breeze this morning the minute changes in the air flow felt like silk running over my fingers, laced with floating silky spider web tendrils. I held my hands over the tall gentle grass heads and let their nodding caress my palms, such tender moments, peaceful and bewitching.

I watched with a warm heartfelt smile as the Royal Parents held their tiny baby, such a gift to any loving parent. The way they held him, the obvious love and adoration, gentle but firm hands holding the offspring of their love for each other. I have no children...but I know the feeling, when my little Nieces have held my hand, such a sense of care.....

Wednesday ...climbing wall time...fingers that will be covered in chalk, sore and battered, but connected to life, a life of emotion, a life of touching....