Light. Today.

What a difference a small gesture can make.

Today outside, really seeing the sun as Spring for the first time this year. Looking at the jam-packed brightness on the pavement, the roundness of the light in the dusty air. The kind of light that has its own smell and touch and sound.

At the swimming pool, letting yourself at last be completely engulfed by the unconditional exhilaration of continuous movement. The delicious soft burn in your lungs, building up and spreading alertness throughout your body. The vivid present aching pulse in your muscles, the buoyant feeling of being the movement, the slight breathlessness, the welcome warm flush on your skin.

Under water, feeling the smooth silky current flowing around your smile for the first time.

Afterwards tranquil, weightless in the dressing room. Perhaps today, getting dressed again was not a chore.

Sitting in the car, hearing the sand under the tires, the car turning and all the possibilities of life suddenly in the parked cars at the parking lot, in the row of thin trees just there, in the earliness of the hour and in the light all around, permeating inside the car and inside bones, nerve cells, veins.

What a difference a small gesture can make. Seeing your doctor smile for the first time.