These are the nights I live for. I can feel my heart. I can feel emotion surfacing in me that are archives from the days I didn’t let emotionally come to the surface. Emotions that have been pushed down in me for days, finally getting a breath of fresh air, and some acknowledgement from my soul.
My skin has the heat of summer in it. I sit here in my summer dress, carressed by the dampness one gets while moving through a June summer day. My skin is kissed with my own dew.
The breeze, as most always, is coming through the window and having conversations with me. The candle is lit, as it should be, and I am relaxed. This is my home of homes.
The only other time today that I have felt relaxed was when I stole to the back porch of the house to sit in a rocker with three year old Grace and watch the storm come in. That was beautiful. I hope I never forget it. It was a fairytale moment that I am sure I had dreamed of experiencing before today. Surely I had hoped for that moment long before. It was a materialization of ideals and photograph coffee table books. It was the scene from a beautiful movie. It was a tiny piece of my childhood, mixed with what I hoped for my own children someday. The thunder rumbled and the trees whispered of the coming rain. The frogs started singing out to each other.... and Grace laughed and talked about how the frogs were talking. It was real for a moment and I sat in a rocking chair and soaked it up.
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