Just a Moment

We're running late today, for some reason. The alarms (yes, plural) were set but neither of us heard them, or, if we did, neither of us responded with any semblence of consciousness. When I actually opened my eyes to look around, the clock on the cable box told me it was a little after nine.

It was raining when I woke up, but since it was also raining when I went to bed, I have no idea if this morning's precipitation was 'still' or 'again'. It doesn't really matter, either way, I just like to know.

I was sitting here at my computer waiting for Fuzzy to finish another of his endless showers (I've often said he washes every body-hair individually, and I really can't be far from wrong about it) when the clouds broke, and now there's a gorgeous ray of sunlight cutting a diagonal path from the side window, across my desk, where it looks like light shimmering on a pool of water, because of the glass, and then out the front window where it passes on into oblivion.

It's just a ray of light, but for a moment, just a moment, my breath was caught somewhere between my lungs and my lips, and I was struck with the fact that no matter how bleak things can seem, whether politically, emotionally, fiscally, whatever, there is always hope.

If she reads this, a certain LJer who lives very (very) north of me, will recognize them, but these are the words that are in my head today, and while they are certainly idealistic, even, dare I say, hokey I'm choosing to keep them in the front of my brain: Even the greatest darkness is nothing, as long as we share the light.

CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 Just a Moment by Melissa Bartell is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.