Good morning!
It’s Monday, it’s July, and even though it’s technically morning, it’s also dusk—because we can do that in Respitopia.
We’re standing on the same screen porch where, 11 years ago today, my beloved and I held a very impromptu and very legal marriage ceremony after already enjoying 20 years of togetherness.
Accompanying us on this rather small porch: an ordained minister friend I’d contacted six hours earlier, my 12-year-old niece (serving as our florist, DJ, and official witness), my brother, and his youngest son—who brought, as his own guests, the entire family of mice who usually reside in the dollhouse upstairs. My other nephew, a few years older and a bit more reserved, watched proceedings through night-vision goggles from behind the living room couch.
Then came dinner and cake and a few ceremonial sips of champagne before we all went outside to watch the sunset. We danced to music squeaking from my niece’s iphone speaker—and as if on cue, the fireflies all began to light up all around us.
Now you’ve stood on the porch and seen the fireflies too.
“My fancies are fireflies, —
Specks of living light
twinkling in the dark.”—Rabrindanath Tagore
Care to dance?
Clara
July 1, 2024