It’s dark now in the mornings when I open the shutters. I miss the light of summer. I took my tentative steps through the morning mist, just a little uneasy. But the birds were singing. Singing as if nothing had changed, or perhaps in spite of the changes. Even in this darkness, they found a reason to sing. They found the joie du jour — joy of the day. So I stopped to look around. The heavy air glistened in the light of the street lamp. A good photographer could capture that I thought. The birds sang, as if to say, a good heart could simply stop and notice it. So I did. And it was beautiful. Different, yes. Lovely, for sure.
We sat down to eat our croissants. The radio said it was going to be a lovely day. I smiled. Knowing it wasn’t for them to decide. It was for me, for each of us, to make the decision, no matter the weather, the circumstance, to decide to be happy, and sing!