Rays of sunshine filter through the leaves and land on my writing table. It's been such a cloudy, rainy summer around Atlanta that this is a rare sight, and I treasure it all the more. I've had to abandon the spot for writing lately ... my words were as clouded as the sun.
I had forgotten what it looked like. Its gleam through the trees is as real as raindrops, glitter from a golden world that doesn't translate to human touch until it sears your skin.
I'm tempted to wake up my kids and say, "come play in the sun!" Considering how grey it's been, there's a chance they might appreciate it.
So on this Sun Day, I will dance in the sunshine ... or maybe in the memory of sunshine. It's fading already.