Time stands still.

I sit out back on the concrete steps just outside the french doors. The breeze is blowing, the sun is shining. I breathe in. Colors dance around me, in their springtime playfulness, as the hazy sun shines through the young bright leaves as they sway.

My son and my man have bows in their hands, and they pull them back to their cheeks and let arrows fly into the target on the fence. The woosh of the arrow matches the woosh of the wind, and the thud of the arrow hitting is fast and hard. The boys look at each other and discuss technique, and I sit, taking it all in. A boychild we thought we'd never have, growing tall now, and my husband with his hand on his shoulder guiding him. It's a dance, and the love between them is easy, gentle, beautiful, and strong - all at the same time.