--Standing on the front porch the day we brought our first baby boy home, talking on the phone with friends and sharing the good news while watching a parade of ladybugs clothe the house in spotted finery.
--Weeding the big garden in the first house we built together, with a cold cocktail resting on the fencepost and the sound of the neighbor's lawnmower whirring in the background.
--Waiting to wake up baby #2 from a long nap because his face was so perfect in the long reach of evening that I just had to watch it one minute longer.
--Pushing the boys in the tire swing last night and realizing that, if we were to remain in this house, we'd have to shorten the rope a few inches because their legs are so long that their feet now brush the ground on the downswing, and feeling like the light couldn't last long enough to hold that memory in place.
So many golden moments. So many gilded memories. So much potential for anything to happen in the slow turning of the earth toward night.