"Set wide the window. Let me drink the day."
That line comes from a poem about someone on their deathbed. I think it should be a guideline for the living. For every Tuesday, for every trip down the same road, for every walk to the same mailbox or the same train platform? We must drink the day now, while we still can. With our eyes, our ears, our lips, our lungs. The world’s trying to astonish us...
... if we would just put our smart phones down long enough to notice.
Maybe that is why I am always watching the moon, the sun, the stars. They don’t just mark time, they give it fucking character.
Without them, Tuesday is just a blur between Monday’s do over and Wednesday’s to-do list. You should know the Buck Moon is just two days away.
In the meantime, feel the heat of an eighty-five degree morning and know rain is due tonight...
...now Tuesday has a plot twist.
Our weatherman here at The Morning chalkboard, John Coleman, says we’ll start sunny and end soaked.
I say perfect.
Feel the warmth.
Feel the rain.
Soak it all in.
Because Tuesdays are for daydreams anyway, right Freddy Jones?
