Dapple Dan

Today we were blowing bubbles.  The sunlight dappled the grass, the trees, her yellow spring coat, her white sun bonnet.  We were blowing bubbles and it was late afternoon.  You could smell the flowers. The trees and the grass were brilliant green.  You couldn't hear a thing.  Except she was gasping and laughing and chasing each one.  Grabbing them, popping them, racing after them until they disappeared.  And nothing tragic happened.  Not one tragic thing.  Even though you might have anticipated that.  Based on the way the sun was dappling everything it could find.  Casting shadows and shining brightly all at once so that time stood still.  Even though the little girl was so carefree and so innocent.  In a space like that I might have gotten distracted.  So distracted that any mennacing creature might have reared its head to gobble that sunny picture down.  But it didn't.  Even though you've been prepared all along for just that sort of thing.  To see something precious being wiped away just when you thought all was safe.  Because the sun was shining.  So what happened instead?  She got a sliver.  We took it out.  We made dinner.  Maybe what was tragic, maybe what was lost was just that afternoon.  It didn't last forever. It dissolved like all the other bubbles.