These Littlest of Pointers

 So much gratitude when I notice the littlest things: 

    • the miniature tchotchke Meg gave me years ago—a half-inch-high wooden planter holding tiny faux sprigs of pussywillow perched on my desk beside a miniature wooden bench on which two dollhouse figures sit smiling at me;

    • garlic bulbs whose leaves are nosing out of our side garden;

    • a patch of sunlight created by the skylight over my workspace, framing the 120-year-old pine floorboards in the study where I sit typing;

    • the blades of grass sprouting on the canvas in my studio.

These littlest of pointers open my heart in nearly imperceptible increments to a grand sense of mystery. 

work in progress,
little pointers to life in my studio