When Magic Happens

On Sunday, we got home from church and my husband started on dinner.

It was a grillin' Sunday - which means he's got the main dish, and I do the rest. I started peeling potatoes at my kitchen sink and looked out the window.

There he was.

The one I've been married to for 10 years. The one who wears gray Converse - which I find so sexy and irresistible. The one who has let his beard grow back so if you thought you were gettin' a photo of him with his baby face - well, not a chance.

I finished peeling the taters, went upstairs to change, and came back downstairs to finish up dinner.

Then I looked outside.

Sometimes, I can verbalize what a moment feels like. As a writer, I love the challenge of putting into words my thoughts in a moment - using my limited vocabulary to express what only words can.

But, sometimes - a photo says more than words can ever say. As a photographer, those moments are magic. They don't happen often - which is why they are so special when they do.

Well.

Somewhere in Raleigh, North Carolina, on a grillin' Sunday, early in the month of January, on the back deck of our home, a new Christmas present created one of those moments.

Magic happened.