The ease of the day: cupboards full of groceries, pizza in the oven, flickering heat in the gas fireplace, and later, a tiny hedgehog asleep, sprawled out on her fat belly, as trusting as a toddler, just under my collarbone while I read “I Capture the Castle” for the dozenth time.
It may snow tonight, or freeze the roads with rain. But for now the night is dark and the season is hopeful: new and good things are growing, ice is melting, all the sharp edges naturally wear themselves smooth with time.
What else is there to spend money on but good food? What else is there to spend time on but delight? What else is there but ease when we let life be true to itself?