Blue

Sometimes you have to look at the world differently, which Duncan forces me to do almost daily. He somehow finds a way to make the even the most mundane things beautiful: the way he devotes all his attention to a single leaf, or the way he turns his face into the wind, closing his eyes and holding the moment until even the breeze itself has passed, or the joyous and awed expression he gets when I scoop up a handful of leaves and rain them down on him.

Today, mid-walk, we stopped, rolled on the grass in one of the fields and stared at the sky. Briefly he let me use his hip as a pillow while we watched the far away faded and cloudless blue behind the trees above us. It meant everything and nothing and for only a moment I got to see the world as Duncan does, vast, exquisite and full of wonder.