The Miracle of Life Every morning, the sun lifts itself over the edge of the world as if for the first time. Light spills across the fields, touches the faces of wildflowers, and everything begins again. I watch the small ant carry a crumb ten times its size, the bee disappear into a bloom, the breeze thread its fingers through the tall grass. And I think-what a privilege, to witness this endless choreography. We keep waiting for wonder to arrive dressed in gold, but here it is- in the pulse of your wrist, in the taste of rain, in the way the earth keeps turning us toward another day.