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What is beautiful? Robert Frost and the smell of winter. Sleepy mornings and green jackets. Ice cubes and long walks. Heartbeats and mountains. Brittle leaves and the lone bird at 3 AM. You in my head. Music flowing in a mist. Wet palms and flickering streetlamps. White moon in a black sky. Crumpled paper and silent puddles. Mangoes and Norah Jones. Random words in last day's newspaper. Everytime I decide to say Baby and stop. Shoulder taps that mean nothing. The promise of change. Images that make me feel I'm dreaming. The word butterfly and not the insect. Everytime someone says Hello when I thought someone never would.  Littleness and strangeness and pretty pretty vagueness. Plumcakes and blue cars. The feeling that there's more to what is left. Songs I want to hear a million times. Idle afternoons and laidback future plans. Flamboyant football and laughter. Moments and moments and moments. And yes.