Superlatives were created for days like today, but there’s no superlative can meet my need. Today is a day for acknowledging the privilege of living. It’s a day meant for good things, the kind of day when problems don’t exist.
It’s 62F with a light breeze that messes with my hair like the glamor closing shot of a shampoo commercial. The clear blue unblemished sky admits of no pollution, no airplanes, no taint of human disturbance. Every color in my world sings with an articulation of renewed life. The trees wear costumes of cherry blossom, lemons, rose buds, and the brightest baby leaves. The grey flagstones exude authority, keeping the sparkling grass from running amok. The white paint on my neighbor’s house, newly up for sale, burns our eyes with the intensity of an ice floe unmoored and on the move. I have never seen colors so bright and honest. Even my smelly old dog, snoozing on the patio, is reborn as a pop of golden fluff, a blond bombshell glowing in the sunshine. She exists only to bask.
Today is the kind of day that really is awesome. It’s a day when a suburban backyard becomes amazing, incredible, astonishing, something that would overwhelm an Impressionist and defy a Pre-Raphaelite. Today my back yard brings spring to my door, giddy in all its superlative glory.
Today is a day to look at the blue of the sky and be glad I am part of it.
Palo Alto, CA
Michelle is a British ex-pat, mom to two girls, two dogs and two horses, with a vigorous interest in feminism, history and crochet.