It can be a stolen moment, gazing out across the fresh-fallen snow on a bright sunny day, the ground glistening as if covered in a diamond dust carpet. It could be lying in the grass, cloud-spotting with my boys, discerning familiar shapes in the abstract, shifting skyscape. Or it could be the serendipitous glance in a stream, reflecting a convergence of the sky above me and the earth at my feet. In awe of the extraordinary found in the ordinary, I pause and breathe a little deeper, thankful for each passing day.