Seeing the first hummingbirds of the year hovering outside my window. Maybe they were looking for the rhododendron we dug up, which used to be planted there and would have bloomed at this season. Maybe they were hovering near the feeder. Maybe they just wanted to say hello.
Seeing our red fox yesterday afternoon, darting into the bushes near our driveway. Pausing my car, as she paused in the brush, and staring each other down for a mesmerized while. Then, seeing three deer, transfixed by my headlights, alongside Green River Road late last night.
Eating raspberry sorbet in a sugar cone while walking down Main Street in new Birkenstocks which, it turns out, now come in narrow, so this year's pair actually fit my feet.
Do these small blessings stand up to the horrors in the news, or to the horrors I know aren't making it into the news but are happening anyway? No. But Zagajewski's right: we must try to praise the mutilated world.