The temperature fell 20 degrees in 20 minutes today. I was working at the dining room table and couldn’t shake the chill, so I pulled a chair up to the fireplace. I set down my cup of tea on the side table and reopened my laptop. The swirls of steam rising out of my mug caught my eye. I watched the ribbons rise and curve and twist and evaporate. I sat still for a full 30 seconds, staring. I don’t remember ever really watching steam before. For a moment, it reminded me of the dance of the northern lights.

I’m beginning to recognise that real happiness isn’t something large and looming on the horizon ahead, but something small, numerous and already here. The smile of someone you love. A decent breakfast. The warm sunset. Your little everyday joys all lined up in a row. — Beau Taplin in Buried Light