As I stand by the kitchen sink looking out into the dawn of a Sunday morning, an orange and green twinkle of a diamond enchants me. It’s a brilliant twinkle amongst a smattering of gems that dance throughout the backyard; day in, day out.

Opals of spring blossoms that emerge at the birth of a child, splashes of glistening aquamarine in a blow up pool and moonstone prints made by excited children that sit on the concrete path after hopping out of that pool.

Sometimes, a sea of birthstones congregate and dazzle at night as people gather to celebrate a birthday or a bon voyage.

From my kitchen window, I watch the ever-changing lapis of zooming scooters and bikes jumping over ramps, the shimmying ruby of a hammock that cocoons a body, and radiant emeralds of grass tips that reach for the sky on a crisp morning.

Occasionally, tears of tigers eyes’ appear when a call comes in the early dark of a morning to tell of someone dear that has left this living Earth.

As I stand by my kitchen window, staring at the next drip of dew falling from the roof outside, I wonder what gems I’ll find next, what new orange and green twinkle of a diamond will sparkle and grow.

Perhaps it will be the agate of a new duco parked in the driveway as a new driver joins the household, or the onyx of another loved one lost.

Growing gems takes time. I’ll savour the fruits of this harvest while the next gestate.