In a moment’s time, the burning tangerine sun rises above the horizon, sits below the pink clouds shuffling south, then disappears. Playing peek-a-boo; its rays streaming through the silhouetted oak tree with vibrating leaves. Through our window decorated with Harvey’s fingerprints. Through the scratched lenses of my glasses. And on to me. Painting me in the warmth of morning. Compelling me to smile and be grateful for the view. And for the people I share it with.
