If a beautiful morning like this morning doesn’t foster a sense of urgency then I’m afraid there may be no hope for you.
It is chilly, and the air is soft. The red glow at 7:00 A:M is a guarantee of an epic day. I’m serious, this is likely to become one of the two or three prettiest days of the year.
What are you going to do about it? Sure you have to work. So do I, but still, what are you going to do? Are you going to take a moment to step outside, take a deep breath, and mark the arrival of Spring? Are you going to knock off early and go for a ride? Lie in the sun and read a good book? Take all your clothes off and run leaping and whooping through the neighborhood like a wild toddler on the loose?
These days make me crazy. Drunk from the tea olive. Ready to walk off the job. What is the value of one single Spring day? Do you really think you can afford to squander it?
When our days come to an end, what will it be worth to you then?
The window of opportunity is small. Summer is coming. Summer is great, but it isn’t Spring. Spring is short because it is precious. We will have torturous summer days and languid summer nights to burn. Summer will last so long you will barely recollect other seasons. Spring begins and ends right now. It’s like caviar, they only give you a tiny little bit at a time. Spring is diamonds. Spring is the last sip of water. The last kiss between star-crossed lovers. The last buttermilk biscuit. Summer is a bowl of potato salad.
Days like this are when the jobless hippies can lord it over you. The homeless appear most brilliant of all. Those with nothing they have to do, nowhere they have to be, this is their day.
I know, this is fool talk. There will be another day like this, more convenient, on a weekend. Perhaps after reports are turned in, calls are made, portfolios are managed, and clocks have been punched, there might still be a sliver of afternoon left. You can scrape the plate for the last key lime pie slice of this amazing day.
I wish I was 10 today,