Harpyesque
Hotash
Some mornings, when the light is just right, it’s impossible not to smile at how golden your skin looks in the sun, and at how much the first breath you take when you step outside the house feels like the first breath anyone has ever taken, sharp and fresh and cool.
Some mornings, when the light is just right, you and the evergreens are one and the same. Everything multiplies; everything joins together.
Some mornings, when the light is just right, you can’t help but open your hands and heart to the world. Even if you happen to be driving down State Street at the time.
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