I watched as they ran along side the evening light.
The pair of them, embraced in a moment that would burn into my memory.
A blur of childhood simplicity, where the air looked and felt like summer.
Slow and humid, and full of laughter – distant laughter that I can hear even now thinking about it.
Where lights and shadows blended in a haze of evening colors, just above their heads.
The children ran without a thought of where they were going.
Overcome with the joy that called them to run until they were breathless.
I remember hoping for that same joy.
Effortless joy that would command my heart and lungs, and will.
I remember being so grateful to them for showing me that it existed in this, its purest form.
And I hoped that they’d never lose it.
But if they did find themselves in doubt of such joy, I’d be able to speak on its behalf.
I would tell them about the time that I witnessed it on their faces.
That I saw it move them across a summer evening.
And that it sprinkled the scene with laughter.