When I was at the airport last week, picking up some friends, I found myself captivated by a little boy. He was magic in his dreaminess and his extraordinarily big dark eyebrows. They were disproportionately large, but he had a very sweet face.

Anyway, this isn't really about eyebrows. Nearby another little boy had a helium balloon. Big Brows (I need to call him something) came close by and just looked up at the balloon, eyes wide, mouth open. You could see he wanted to touch the balloon but was well aware that it was not his. So he just stood close by, watching the other boy play.

We went to the main hall of the airport and there he was again. He was looking up at the very high ceiling, taking in passing strangers, a bit lost in his own thoughts, walking very slowly in front of us, gently touching the things he passed. I wanted to sit down on a bench and just watch his wonder.

His mother took her time walking in front of him, looking back at him smiling. I was glad that this beautiful dreaming child had a mother who got him, who understood the loveliness of his experience in the world. That she was not impatient with his rapture. The big browed boy, he enchanted me.