At a time when things are lean, we discover the beauty of smallness. The weeds in the grass. Bugs on the flowers. Lizards in the lemon balm. Inchworms on the fence. It wasn't until I started walking my yard with my camera that my eye caught the "invisible" for the first time. Things too small for such a busy, self-important eye to see. The scales were peeled away. I was given a vision, an ability to see what I would not before.
Can you see him?
She packs up the leftovers and sends them home with us, orders a book I've always wanted just as a treat, drives to pick my kids up three days a week to teach them math. He takes the big boys hunting and shooting, swings by on his way home with hugs and donuts, offers a gentle word when one is needed. Both see what isn't visible, hear what isn't said. Both act with small acts that are huge. Their love is no small thing.