I've been kind of saturated in nostalgia of late, the kind that is deliciously depressing, that creates a slightly crushing-chest breathless feeling.

But I'm kind of sick of thinking and writing about heavy subjects. Here is a list of pleasant sublimities I've been enjoying: swinging Sonora in a blanket and hearing her completely honest, unrestrained laughter--it sounds like joy; feeling the swell of Elizabeth's tight-skinned pregnant belly; feeling the swishing kick--like the slapping tail of a powerful trout--of our unborn baby as she sloshes around in amniotic fluid; walking outside at night and feeling the clear, shining stars reaching down toward me through the tree branches; sliding in my socks across the living room floor; smelling the skin of Elizabeth's neck; watching the snowman Sonora and Elizabeth built melt down to a nub and be buried by new snow; noticing anew for the millionth time that snow sparkles.