I have blue days sometimes. I think we all do. Last fall I had one of those days. It was chilly and a wind was doing its best to remove the last stubborn leaves from the large maple tree in my yard. I ventured out onto the patio to refill the bird feeder. That’s when I saw that the wind had blown the leaves into a clear, heart-shaped pattern.
I did not see the car approaching from behind as I rode my bicycle toward the narrow bridge. Perhaps they did not see me either. Maybe their attention, like mine, was on the approaching car. A last second, hard application of brakes gave just enough room for the unseen car to swerve past me and pass the oncoming car. Funny, I don’t remember squeezing the brake lever.
Caught in a Kansas thunderstorm, rushing to get to shelter, a small balloon with a smiley-face blew into my feet. It was three months after my wife, Merry, who loved all things smiley-faced, passed away from cancer.