To plunge one's face into the nape of a baby is a surrender to their supreme innocence.
It is to genuflect – to bow – inwards to a capacity of pre-programed love currently set on unbiased. This is where we can snatch their delicate little smell – that of baby – unique as a fingerprint known by a lucky few. The plump stitched creases that run pleated towards their chins mould to touch like the most angelic of spongecakes. To cradle a little one by the lightness of their nape is to balance an entire universe in the palm of your hand. We are mountains, indomitable to their devoted gaze.
We are the purveyors of comfort for them – our gigantic hands weapons against any assailing misery when soothing their nape. In and all at once we are both together – powerless and the most powerful.