Isn’t it customary to want what it is that we do not currently have?
The past few days have been a veritable heat wave for this time of year—students sporting shorts and t-shirts at school; then again, I guess some of them do that year round. The weather has been wonderful.
This morning I felt a longing for rain—or perhaps snow, something to reflect upon. I am not the biggest snow enthusiast there is; however, there is something calming and wonderful about seeing the large, crystalline flakes drifting from the heavens like manna.
I got ready for the day—after all, one never knows when they might have to run out for a bit, and it would be nice to have already showered. Since being dressed was not really a concern, I slipped back into comfortable pajamas. I moved quietly to the window, convinced that there would be neither rain nor snow, and yet I had a strange hope that there would be. I opened the blinds and found myself surprised as I was greeted with tiny, silvery, flakes drifting from a melancholy sky.
I sat and watched them for quite awhile. The flakes began to grow in size and started to multiply. Like cottonwood fluff carrying seeds bustling with new life. The soft flakes were soon joined by others, and a slight wind picked up, driving them like a pale rainstorm.
All is right with the world. All is new.