How incredible that we embrace any excuse that comes along to celebrate optimism. No god would have accepted “such carrying on.” But here we are on a five day high as if we soaked up alcohol or smelled the library paste. Friday, the 13th no less, there were ads, reminders, and blatant guilt trips laid on TV viewers and newspaper readers to get out there and prove undying devotion to the heart’s desire. Sparkling diamonds, lavish furniture centered around beds, scrumcious dining, yes and even hot music cards, for your Valentine, of course.
I fell right into the whole shebang! Early greetings from friends, can’t get too much of that. And the sun shone on thousands of migrating waterfowl on my favorite wildlife Refuge. Tundra swans are back by the dozen. More Canada geese than I could estimate, duck species galore, a bald eagle graced the raft beyond the bird blind. What a spectacle.
And the world turns. The moon shines brighter than it has for days. I could find my paths in the back yard when I ventured out to get my mile of running well after dark. There is simply nothing an eighty one year old will not do to keep on keeping on. And it is not over. President’s Day is a day of bargains. I am optimistic I can find something to die for.
See you across the aisle in some dreamtime!