Jeb is home from school with the sniffles.

I toast bread, slice oranges and make ginger tea.  Steam rises from Jeb’s epsom salt bath in the morning sunlight.

David Gray sings low as I fold dish towels.

The air is ever so slightly crisp and the cool hints of winter in California tickle my heart.  Remembering my time there last year.  I will be returning soon.

All that has transpired since last December.  Love found and lost.  Hope inspired and dashed.

Deep inside I feel a wellspring that insists not to give up.  Watch the steam lift to the air like magic, trust and follow the thread.  Follow the heart.