There’s so much brightness to seek in every day.

On a wet Monday the available brightness comes in small denominations.

A bakery vent at half past seven. Somebody's dog on the bus, appalled by everything. A song you had forgotten, in a shop, at exactly the wrong volume.

None of that rescues a day on its own. Six of them might. The mistake is holding out for one large piece of good news while the small change goes uncollected.

Seek is the honest verb here. These things don't announce themselves. They pass through the edge of a day and are gone again inside four seconds.