It's hard to find words after a long stretch of silence. It's difficult to write about one beautiful moment when so many have passed by unrecorded.
Life lately has passed in a series of showers and sparks, and for weeks I've found neither the time nor the words to record them.
But suddenly, I feel the need to write, and instead of summing up or looking back or expressing deep thoughts about the past few months, I'll begin by simply sharing one little moment that sparkled amongst the blackness.
I'll tell you about the little bonfire that we lit in our garden and the serious concentration with which John gazed into its fiery heart. I'll tell you of the warm cranberry punch that we sipped whilst watching the flames dancing with the dark and the little enamel cup that sat alongside ours on the damp wooden bench.
I'll tell of the fiery magic of a sparkler and the way we hovered anxiously over our boy whilst he made bright trails in the night.
I'll write of the excitement that came of getting all wrapped up after dinner and running out into the blackness, the squeals of joy that sounded in the dark as John chose a firework from the box, the breathlessness with which he ran into my arms as James lit the taper and the wide wonder in his eyes as sparks shot up into the night.
And I'll promise you that this moment, which sparkled so visibly on a cold November night was just one of many sparkling moments that passed by unrecorded but left invisible fiery trails burned forever onto my soul.