Words toss and tumble around in my head, and as I pick up Cheerios off the floor and tell the curious toddler to please stop banging her sippy cup on the furniture, I mentally line up the words and phrases.
But then, when it is finally still and quiet, I look at the clock and wonder where all the minutes have gone. I sit down to write, and discover I cannot remember any of the words my mind wrote hours before.
And then I realize it’s okay, because the words have been eaten up by life. Beautiful, vibrant, loud, wonderful life.
[Image taken on a rare cold day earlier this year.]