pepper tree perfection

Every once in a while, time slows down and I find myself living in the moment. Today, as Lily, Anya and I walked across a long swath of fresh, damp grass towards a playground, I had one of those moments. I could hear my breath, the sound of Lily’s flip-flops in the grass, the kids on the playground, the buzz of insects in the grass. The breeze pushed gently at my back as Anya’s thumb moved rhythmically against my shirt, her legs hugging my middle as she sat perched on my hip. I watched our friends move slowly and easily, children on the equipment, moms chatting in the shade of the big pepper tree, snacks shared, laughter shared, quiet pockets of air drifting through the chatter. I almost stopped walking as I realized that this, right here, was a perfect moment. That my life would never be better than it is right now and here I am, so hurried and stressed, that it was getting away from me. I thought I might burst into tears. Instead, Lily ran ahead of me a little, excited to play with her friends and then turned to flash me a smile. Anya reached up and tugged on my hair and I felt my whole body smile.

Seriously, life doesn’t get much more perfect than this.