Life continues, after all these years, to be full of surprises. Some are of the sort that knock the air out of you, make you instantly feel sick and dizzy, that seem to turn you inside out, sucking everything into the swirling black hole in your gut. Some take your breath away in a better way, bowl you over with the awe, the mystery, of unexpected, undeserved goodness. Others are quiet and slow, gradual dawnings, eyebrow-raisers, producers of the bemused half-smile. Some come with thunder and lightning, trumpets and fireworks. Some occur in a quiet field at night, under stars, or lying in bed in the morning, watching the first orange light moving along the wall. warm, sudden realizations, or moments, isolated from time, without past or future, not to be questioned, only enjoyed-lived. Blessed aberrations, where something breaks in, something escapes, slips by the guards, as if the great numbing destroyer acccidentally overlooks something, and something from another world, one not fracturing, not dying, one of perpetual morning light, something from that strange world irrrupts into this one. They are quiet secrets, still and sacred, held and treasured only within oneself. Or, in rare blessed moments, with perhaps one other.