Over coffee, we chatted about the years since I last saw her and about what she is doing, thinking of doing, reading, and writing.
It pleases me to know that she is still the same thoughtful, kind person I taught, and that she has become even more herself as she has moved on from college.
It especially pleases me that she is writing, and that she loves her writing, and that she wants to continue writing. She has even considered graduate work in writing. She described what's missing in Indian-American literature, and if she wrote that novel to fill that void, I would read it. I would be first in line to buy it and seek out her reading.
Right after I took this photo, I walked to my car, where a lime green grasshopper waited for me on the new door. I called, "Hey, come look!" She did, and I helped it to the grass before leaving.
On the way home, I stopped to buy cream. As soon as I pulled into a parking place, a dragonfly ticked back and forth, back and forth, right by the driver's door.
Luck, perhaps. Kismet. Coincidence.
But how lovely that these visitations lifted my day.