And I remember one moment of epiphany, watching a gauge returning to its center as I sat in the car listening to Mozart — how the piano’s keys sounded like touching the chill of leaves after a spring rain — as the dial eased into place in perfect accompaniment, and I marveled how beautiful it could be, the delicate slowness of ordinary things. This is what life has for us, sometimes, plain elements that are remixed in some way that is startlingly creative, as if such things are meant to be: something to hold within you and wonder at the grand design, wonder at the miracles that must happen every day, most of them which we don’t notice for the simple fact that they are all around us, happening at will, maybe only to catch us off guard every once in a great while. This is God saying hi, leaving no signature except the feeling in the soul that there is some meaning to it all we can never quite express, yet somehow understand that such meaning there — for us to touch the garment of love itself, and be healed.