The days arrive, giving reason to why many purr and coo when I tell them that I live in Sonoma. It is the most beautiful place that I have lived. These days are as drops of honey on the tongue, passing like silk across the eyes, a blue bath for the mind.
The other day I opened my travel bag, the one that is almost always there in the bathroom, and I found the boy's toothbrush and toothpaste packed in it, zippered up. He has long asked to come with me wherever I go, now he is making sure that I know what he needs when we depart.
The world revolves on the tiniest of miracles. So much delicacy pivots and pirouettes on the kindness of simple gestures, the silentest of messages ever sent: a four year old boy putting his toothbrush and toothpaste in with Daddy's, only because he wants me to know that he also wants to go.
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