I leaned my head out the kitchen door to scan the living room. And there they were, all five of them, nestling into the couches, perusing a favorite book. Sunlight was pouring in the south window, tingling down their necks, warming their backs and whiting their toes.
Most afternoons start out gentle like this.
I kneel on the carpet, camera in hand, watching. They are oblivious to their stalking mother. I creep past their feet as Sami tells the boys the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff.