In amongst some stressful happenings, there are bright patches of warm, glorious sunshine. This afternoon, and indeed its counterpart yesterday, was spent curled up in the warmth of a large feather quilt on a large comfortable bed, watching as the small girl snoozed quietly beside me. There is nothing like sleeping together to smooth away the cares, to brush back the shadows, to bring back the radiance, to strengthen the connection. The small girl sleeps deeply, her breath a constant source of wonder to me as I think of the tiny lungs in her chest working away, almost by magic. She sighs as she sleeps, and I wonder what her dreams show her. Does she think of time spent in the velvet sling, carried on her parents’ willing backs? Does she think of the softness of luscious black fur, proffered on a friendly cat’s paw? Or does she dream of the night sky, the moon which fascinates her and the stars which make her smile? Perhaps one day she will tell me. For now, I am content to lie there beside her, moving in and out of my own dreams as I hold her against me.