Twenty minutes into this session, it was pouring. And I'm not talking beautiful let's-frolic-in-the-woods type of rain; more like a torrential downpour. I had been hoping it would blow over and instead was reminded that the wet hair look isn't really something I can pull off; thanks universe. As we huddled under a tree we heard a woman yelling from a nearby house inviting us in to wait out the shower. Her home was filled to the brim with lovingly arranged photos and momentos and a general calm chaos. Letting three adults and a baby unexpectedly crash in your living room on a Monday night is radical hospitality. I usually am very guilty of not inviting anyone in unless I know them, have a clean house, managed to wash my hair that day and Fitz the Cat is mildly behaving. How often do we open up ourselves (let alone our homes) to complete strangers? And what wonderful moments can occur because we do?