How passionately we love everything
that cannot last:
the dazzling crystallory of winter,
the spring in bloom,
the fragile flight of the butterflies,
crimson sunsets,
a kiss,
and life.
Dean Koontz
Brother Odd
Yesterday was an euphoric entry into the magical rhythms of spring ... sunshine bursting, flowers radiant, green grass begging for bare feet, sweet fragrances floating in the air ... and all was well in my world.
People in the community were holding their hearts open in celebration of spring. Everyone seemed to be a bit more kinder and polite towards each other by holding doors, offering smiles and seemingly happy to be alive!
In search for a few new pieces to spruce up my spring wardrobe, I encountered, much to my surprise, a professional friend I had not seen for twenty years. She looked wonderful as she shared her accomplishments and excitedly embraced my career reporting. I felt connected to my successful past which brought joy into my present.
When I returned to my car and settled into the driver's seat, I noticed something on my windshield. "Oh no," I thought, "not a ticket to ruin this perfect day!" I climbed back out and ripped the paper from behind the windshield wiper. What could this be? Upon closer examination I discovered the lovely handwriting of a neglected friend. Oh how I wish I had seen her! Her quickly written message made me miss her all the more.
Upon arriving back at the house, I bustled in vibrating with all of the energies from this lovely spring day. Writing in my journal, I leisurely expressed my thoughts about the unfolding of this spring day. I sadly realized that this foray into spring bliss, as other things I surely love, couldn't sustain these feelings much longer.
The sun would once again sink into the horizon, and the graceful appearance of the moon would glide across the star lit sky. Begrudgingly, I would leave the porch swing and find my way to bed. I would place my fantasy spun memories to rest in hopes of finding equal happiness tomorrow.
The sun would once again sink into the horizon, and the graceful appearance of the moon would glide across the star lit sky. Begrudgingly, I would leave the porch swing and find my way to bed. I would place my fantasy spun memories to rest in hopes of finding equal happiness tomorrow.
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