Fresh water sea water salt in the sand
leaves changing colors
come, hold my hand

One of her endearing qualities: finding joy in each of the small pieces that make up the mosaic around her.

Puns are a dangerous thing to give to a child; it gives them bad ideas about how the world is put together.

Music playing in the background, loud enough to hear, quiet enough not to intrude, a silent snake making its way, vibrating through the air, into my brain, leaving eggs in a nest there. Now I’m waiting for them to hatch.