(Because Part I was fun to write, and because today is a day in which I need to grasp onto some small wonders.)
i. Autumn. Hymns of wind-soaked laughter and homesick thunderstorms, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the satisfied whistle of a teapot boiling. Of all the seasons, I think autumn holds the most dulcet sort of music.
ii. The comforting weight of three books tucked in one’s bag and six more perched on the nightstand. I will never truly feel at home in a place that is not overflowing with books: books in the closet, books on the desk, books peeking out of the most remote crannies to whisper hello, it is a wonderful thing to read and be read by you.
iii. Poems. And also the people who enjoy poems. (Funnily enough, I have discovered that these people tend to be poems in and of themselves.)
iv. Children who are kind simply because they can be. Today, as I was volunteering in our elementary school library, a small girl I had never seen before walked up to me and said: “You looked like you need a cookie today.” And she procured a crumbling chocolate chip cookie from her bag and placed it on my desk, and then wrapped her arms around me and hugged me for a good thirty seconds. “I hope things get better,” she said, and promptly untangled herself from me and skipped off. I think that is a level of kindness we should all aspire to.
v. A dog and a squirrel, and the endless whirl of delighted chaos that occurs when they happen to come together.
vi. Being on the way home after an evening of exhausting happiness — how your eyelids are pleasantly weighted down, limbs ready to be cradled by soft linens, everything enveloped in a rather quiet silvery haze.
vii. Listening to the same song over and over and over again. How, after a certain unnamed point, the music is less filtering through your headphones and more dissolving into your bloodstream, the lyrics etched into some secret place very deep inside of you, the rhythm thrumming through your bones, less a discombobulation and more a perfectly crooked symphony. The precise moment that a song seeps into your soul, becomes the motive in everything — that, I think, is the most special one of all.