And then there are the most ephemeral and beautiful ones of all. Like butterfly wings. Just don't touch them- they are too fragile for that.

Like the day that I walked from the UC to Rankin Hall on campus in Missoula in the rain. The smell of the dirt by the horticultural fern garden combined with the sound of the rain on my umbrella cued something deep inside. It was that rare form of happiness that transcends place and time, and embeds itself on the soul (if there is such a thing). It's still there, when I take it out and look.

There was the raspberries in the back yard, glowing in the sun, warm, and still kind of cool, because it was still kind of early in the morning (once upon a time, I was a morning person). The feeling of them when I pulled the berries from the bushes, avoiding the prickles most of the time, and the feeling of them between my little teeth, crunchy and squishy all at once. All the while the hose ran in the background, because I was watering the raspberry bushes to "help" Mom. No doubt it was a clever way to get me out of the house.

There was the time spent looking at the pilot light in the basement. Doesn't sound particularly happy. But I was imagining dragons and genies within. And that was wonderful. The colors of the flame didn't translate to anything in reality.

Taking Elsa out of her box for the first time in her new home, placing her on the bed, and hearing her start to purr instantly- in her glorious rumbling purring way. Knowing that she was home. And that she was mine.

Watching the blackbirds flying through the sky against the grey rainclouds and pine trees from my window. What might seem depressing, is really just a stark beauty. Almost like a Kurosawa film- something so simple, but elegant. If I were a Roman, I would be watching with portents in mind. But I'm not. So I'm not.

More of these fill the back spaces and the card catalog. And that makes me much happier to trot them out and share. Not demons. Just different kinds of ghosts. The ones I carry gladly. And I suppose if the other ones are the price to pay, I pay it gladly. I wouldn't trade the sheer joy of it all for anything in the world. Even the sheer sadness of it all.