Spring has sprung. Every day this week will be in the 40’s. Today is perfect. Everything is aligned. The blue sky is cloudless. The sun is brilliant. The wind is gone, replaced by a tiny breeze which ruffles the brown leaves still holding on, still hanging off the branches of an oak tree. 

Today is not a sloth day. I have a list, an inside, outside list. The bird feeders need to be filled. I’ll be out and about doing a few errands. The dining room is the room of the day to be cleaned. I’ll need a nap.

If I could go back in time, I don’t know when to choose, whether just an ordinary day or a special day, a one time only memorable day. The ordinary day would in summer when I was a kid, when every day was fun. I’d ride my bike. I remember when I learned to ride no-handed. I raised my arms to the sky in triumph and the bike almost fell over. Maybe I’d pick the day I rode my bike to East Boston to see my grandparents and nearly gave my mother a heart attack. I might choose a library day. I remember it was cool even on hot days. I’d walk up and down the stacks trying to find a book. The library, upstairs where the old books were, had a smell, a good smell. Sometimes I’d sit on the floor there and read. Nobody ever bothered me.

The memory of the walk to school on a warm spring day still gives me joy. I can see the sun shining through the leaves on to the sidewalk. The air was sweet with the aromas of new flowers and green grass. It was just the start of an ordinary day.

Special days are easier to remember. When I learned I had been accepted into the Peace Corps still sits prominently in my memory drawer. It was a Sunday when there was a knock on the door. A postman stood there with a special delivery letter for me, my acceptance letter. On another Sunday my parents and I drove to Logan for my flight to Philadelphia to start my Peace Corps journey. In my mind’s eye I can see my parents standing together at the gate waving goodbye. All of my time in Ghana is special, no day was ordinary. I was living in Africa.

I have far more both ordinary and special days, but this musing could get so very long I’d have to roll it into a scroll so I’ll stop here. I’ll save the rest for another day. 

This entry was posted on March 10, 2025 at 12:08 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.