The other day I caught glimpse of a middle-aged woman twirling with arms stretched high, high as she could. Space, motion, being – just because she could.
Yes, it was me, in the bathroom mirror.
I clap sometimes too, just for the rhythm of it, see how many times I can clap before I miss a beat.
It was hot last night. When I turned on the faucet this morning, the physicality of cool water on warm hands struck me.
As generation after generation pours over this earth, I wonder how many people find delight in uncomplicated motion, ability, or texture. How much water has graced the hands of humanity to wash or soothe. How many actions undertaken simply for the reverie.
I wonder.
Shouldn't...but Do 
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