There are mornings when you stay in bed a little longer after waking. A trace of a magical dream still lingers, and maybe, just maybe, the wildest hopes feel real for a moment. The sunlight on such a morning is warmer than usual. The birds seem to sing sweeter songs. And the green leaves, catching the light, scatter tiny rainbows into the world. You walk barefoot, feeling every inch of the floor. Everything your fingers touch feels new, as if it’s found its way into your hands for the very fi...