So easily overlooked, yet so frequently involved. So often discarded, yet so infrequently overused. So readily prepared, yet so consequently unintended.
As a growing boy, I don’t recall paying any mind to it. I don’t remember ever working its obvious benefits into my busy, innocent schedule. It never occurred to me that something of this significance would become so purely important to me the older I became. No matter what I did, where I went, who I was with or how old I was, I never paid any mind to the ever present characteristics of, it. How naive could I have been to be so oblivious to the fact? How unprepared was I for the day when so many of my days revolved around, it? How blessed had I become to have been given a second, a third and a fourth chance to bare witness to one of life’s most amazing, things?
I stood, speechless and never so awake, and with my arms folded I became completely alive with thought. My imagination danced from the summit of Mount Katahdin, swiftly down through the river valley until I was staring out at the rocky Maine coast. I felt bravely invincible, yet humanly vulnerable. I stood and continued to stare, and as this, thing continued to gaze deep into my being, the day took on a new light. The shadows took on an artistic contrast, the colors attractively enveloped around my world, the orchestrated chorus rising out of the North West winds soothingly reached inside me and caressed the ever present child within.
I fumbled with optimism as my energetic youth raced neck and neck with my aged reflection.
Too good to be true? Too perfect to be defined? Too coincidental to have an alternative purpose?