From my chair in the sand I looked out over the water, and I watched your willowy frame. The wind tossed your hair and it sparkled in that way that it does in July, after six weeks of sun has left it’s highlights falling in ribbons around your crown. You stood at the edge of the ocean, where just your toes touched the water, and you bent to pick up a shell.
I saw it as plain as day. Later, I wondered if maybe I was wrong–if maybe I saw something that wasn’t there. And now, a few weeks have passed and there is an image in front of me in black and white — a picture of what I saw back then. I can’t pretend it is not there anymore.
I saw black and white, but you saw colors and swirls and patterns. You saw flowers and butterflies and possibilities.
Henri Matisse said “There are always flowers for those who want to see them.”
You have a beautiful mind. You are graceful, and mature and full of resolve and determination. Your heart is gentle, your mind is bright, and there is a light behind your eyes that can almost bring me to my knees.
You see the flowers, Kate.
You have always seen the flowers.