Sometimes

...beauty lies in the imperfections.

Sarah crawled into bed next to me this morning. We had all slept in and the sun was glowing through the curtain next to the bed and warming us with soft light. She smiled sweetly up at me and studied my face. Then she pointed to my cheek and said, "Mom, what are dese?" I sighed and asked, "You mean these lines on my face?" She nodded. "They're wrinkles," I said. "Why?" she asked. "Because I smile a lot," I answered.

"What are dose on Daddy's back?" she asked as she pointed to his skin. "Those are beauty marks," I said of his moles and freckles. "Why?" she asked. "Because he's very beautiful," I chuckled. Then I told her she better go give him a kiss (which is a sneaky way of getting him to wake up in a good mood.) It worked...until Sam came in and mauled him.

Later this morning I made my way up to the gardens and noticed these two distorted flowers sort of spooning each other. They just seemed more interesting than the perfectly splayed ones next to them. Purple blossoms focused in the same direction, one leading, one covering. The soft light warming their folds. More beautiful in their imperfections. Spending the moment in movement together.