I went for a walk
I went for a walk, and I just had to tell you about it.
The air smelled wonderful. Cold. The sky was the most delicate shade of pale silver.
It rained down on me and my umbrella in my rainboots. Everywhere I looked there was so much green. Every leaf and blade of grass was fat and full of water.
As I looked I could see them plump and quiet in a happy gaze, the kind of look you get in that moment between Thanksgiving dinner and pie when you pause and feel good.
That moment when you are with your family and everything is ok.
So much green, so many colors of bright green. Every plant so alive and pleased with the giving rain, except the roses. The roses all stood with their heads bowed. Praying, perhaps. I didn't ask, they didn't offer. If the flora have gods, surely the rain is one of them.
I could smell that rain and that moment and I breathed them in fully and completely in the cold air. I let the beautiful holiness of their bowed heads fill me with pain and joy. My toes and my fingers bitten by the chill and the pink on my cheeks rising to the surface.
Every puddle was window into a microscopic world. The beautiful clear glass with the world silently settled beneath in tiny perfection, only to be rippled by drops of glass.
I am ok today. I'm ok with tomorrow and every day that follows because they don't exist. All we have is this moment and this puddle and this drop of glass.
I stepped in the glassy water and took deep gulps of the cold air. I could have walked forever like that, slowly and in each moment. If forever is in a moment, let it be in that moment where a minute is eternity and the drops slowly fall to the earth.
Does time pass more slowly in the microscopic worlds in puddles? Or does a minute finally have the right amount of time in it?
20 minutes. 68 calories. They're just numbers.
I just went for a walk, and I had to tell you about it.