I love:

(inspired by Pam's blog and my waning desire to actually write paragraphs)

• my mother
• the heat of bodies under blankets
• smelling baby heads
• how small, surface impacts of deliberate love and care sometimes add up to cataclysmic, geologic transformation
• when my dad really tries
• coasting
• when noise becomes music
• climbing trees until I am high enough that I should stop, then climbing more
• seeing my aunt cheat at cards and board games
• kids running while holding hands because they need to share
• the juncture that separates the pads of my cat's paws
• hilarious misspellings
• healing injuries with cotton balls, humor, and Band-Aids
• absurd and unselfconscious children’s drawings
• unrepentantly awful jokes, including Knock-Knocks
• remembering love with a heart that’s whole
• the way good memories tend to glow, uncorrupted by truth
• starting a campfire using only last night’s embers, then feeding it until it doesn’t need me anymore
• when strangers smile
• the way sea water feels thick and coherent when you skim your hand across it
• drinking coffee and eating oatmeal in bed
• when anyone or anything falls asleep on me
• camping for so long that seeing yourself in a mirror is a surprise
• when a kid asks me about my skin and I explain it, and they go, “Oh, cool.”
• the swirl of hair at the nape of my brother’s neck
• bird bones