1. Peeling sunchokes for dinner. The thought of wresting those little tubers from their rough skins is more than I can bear on a day so easy and quiet.
2. Picking up the house. The pillows turned the wrong way on the couch, the ice cream scoop in the middle of the playroom, the salad bowl on the floor of the kitchen. In the yellowy sun of early spring, they look just fine where they are.
3. Deciding what vacation will look like this summer. Why don’t we just agree, me and Mother Nature, that every day be like this one, bright and clear, heavy with quiet, open to anything?
4. Returning a phone call. We have so much to catch up on, and I want so badly to know what’s going in your life, but the day is so quiet, and I haven’t heard birds sing in ages.
Tomorrow the sun won’t feel like such a novelty, and the workday routine will impose itself on us, so for today, for today, I’ll let my head be still, my eyes be heavy, and my time be my own.