scribblechic

Science will explain prisms with logic and light, but I prefer a bit of mysticism. The innocent sense of awe and admiration that something unassuming can gather white light into a spectrum of beauty.

This is my morning, little miracles of perspective; small moments of beauty conjured from fragments of nothing. The smell of warm laundry bundled in my arms, neatly stacked piles of clean dishes settled in want of a meal, a cool breeze and fat raindrops as I watch our pup chase the perimeter of her yard. Separately they offer fleeting glimpses of beauty, but collectively they create an atmosphere of possibility.

Here I sit, a quiet house and full heart, poised on the precipice of the day to come; cloaked in wonder for an expectation of something spectacular among the otherwise mundane.

Tagged: Musings