There is a tipping point each afternoon in my sewing room. You might not suspect it in the morning, when the hanging crystals are quiescent. As the sun gets low enough to skim over my neighbor's house, and into my windows, the crystals that dance in that space wake up and toss rainbows across the shelves. If children are sewing at the time, we pause to catch them in our hands, knowing that color is beholden to no one. But we can pretend. 

 

"I have it!" a child squeals with joy. 

 

I don't understand the spectrum well enough to say whether the color was always there, hiding, or if it is birthed when conditions line up. John explained rainbows to me, in that there has to be rain, and an afternoon angle. I nod, because even someone who got a C in high school physics can smile. 

 

I wonder if people are like that. Maybe there is a palette of loveliness waiting to erupt from us if only we find the sweet spot. The cut glass is an apt symbol for the way our minds reflect true thoughts, and bring them to life for another's delight. It seems prudent to recall that such an ability does not originate with me, but comes shooting through me should the conditions allow.