Today on the way home from work, I saw bubbles being blown out of the car in front of me at a stoplight. On this chilly February day, I am transported back to a warm summer out in the yard of Kody’s father’s house with his niece and nephew.

The boy is too small still to really do this himself, so Kody holds the wand patiently trying to teach him to blow softly across it. When he loses interest, Kody blows and a gentle stream of shining bubbles take to the sky. His nephew laughs, runs barefoot across the grass, chasing the bubbles until they rise up over the fence and away.

His niece picks her way across the dried out grass more carefully, holding the bubbles at an angle so some of the solution sloshes out. Her mother tilts the bubbles upright in her hand, laughing. I can feel the warm summer sun shining over a perfect peaceful moment. I can smell the charcoal of a barbecue grill. I can taste the sweetness of the day.

Kody blows another stream of bubbles for his nephew to chase and smiles one of his rare real smiles. A smile that lights up his eyes and makes his ears turn the slightest tinge of red. He is in this moment able to enjoy the simple pleasure of watching children play.

When the light turns green, my beautiful summer’s day bursts like the bubbles on the windshield. I say a quiet thank you to the bubble maker and drive on.