Soft footed

This has been a quiet year. I ride public transit to work each day, watch a movie with Ezra in the evening, have a lovely meal and sleep early. We go to the forest for hiking on the weekends, to the coast, the art museum, to the gardens, which by the way are finally giving a hint that spring might actually come after a strange and snowy winter, or we just huddle inside and rest. Some nights we spend a little time with our friends, laughing over boardgames and beers. This lovely and simple pattern feels to me like a suspension, a momentary hush after something, or perhaps before something, powerful. I hold my breath.