Can you see them there? The little pin-pricked spots of light in the photograph? The little dust motes shining in the sunbeam from our windows.
As a grown-up, what do they mean to me? I hardly notice them. If anything, I might consider them a sign of poor housekeeping. Ha!
But as a child, I remember trying to catch them, as my two-year-old is doing in these pictures. They were so beautiful to me. I remember imagining that they were all sorts of things — fairies, tiny stars floating down from the sky, sunshines that you could really see. My imagination whirred, creating a world of meaning for these little bits of flying dust. I loved them.
And I had forgotten all that, how I felt in those childhood moments, chasing dust motes across the living room, when it seemed such a vast tract of land, until I watched Lizzy doing this herself just the other day. Isn’t that an amazing feeling, finding forgotten moments of your childhood in the everyday lives of your own children? Now I’m loving dust motes all over again.