Sepia toned memories

I've been having one of those evenings where I have been so perfectly in the moment. Everything just seems so clear, so unforgettable, so beautiful.

The smile on Sunshine's face when I saw him after work, the way he waved at me and Mollie as we left Starbucks to head towards home.

The way the sun lit the edges of the storm clouds on the drive home, giving them a brittle platinum edge.

The way my puppy sat looking out the window as the miles flew by,  perking up when we turned onto our street and straining to get out of the car when we parked in our driveway, so happy to be home.

Even the horrific wave of nausea that threatened to bring dinner back up before I could get it down stands in sharp contrast to the blur of my day.

But the best part? The warm glow that lit the swamp just before the sun set. It looked almost like one of those old sepia photographs. Everything was bathed in a warm amber glow as the crickets and frogs serenaded me and my puppy barked at the drunken neighbors breaking beer bottles in the yard.

I tried to take a picture but my phone's camera just couldn't capture it. It was beautiful,  and my words don't do it justice. It was all so beautiful that even the drunken assholes breaking their beer bottles couldn't ruin it.

I wish you all could have been with me. It was breathtakingly, heartbreakingly beautiful.