let there be
Several days ago a small toy rolled under the piano. Tucker collected flashlights from all over the house - from under the kitchen sink and from his bedroom and from the back part of the basement - and angled them so they all pointed at the object under the piano. He was still unable to reach it, but he could sure see it.
Some of Tucker's flashlights have clear plastic discs that fit over the beam, with black shapes that cast shadows, silhouettes of cars and dinosaurs and insects. He has a book that he likes to read at bedtime, when his room is very dark, that has similar black shapes on clear pages meant to shine light through. That book usually leads to making a few shadows of our own, splayed hands become birds and folded fingers make wolves. There's something mysterious and magical about shadows, something primitive, like a cave painting. There are secret worlds on the walls, not just dark spots with shapes.