You see that farmhouse tucked amid rows of well-tended grapevines?

Its windows are open to the gentle summer breeze, one that carries the sounds of laughter and love.

A tanned arm reaches to close a window on the farmhouse’s upper floor. A little privacy, it begs. But we turn the page.

For Beau has come back to
bed on this late afternoon,
back to kiss Harper's
outstretched hand.

And we can't stop reading.