Starting to lose altitude a bit, but stabilized to float above it all safely, and am in no danger of crashing because this time I thought to bring a parachute along.
Or, more metaphor,
I remember to wear my jacket when I go out.
Or
With winter still showing and snowing, my first leaf has frozen and waits.
Or
Purple crocuses stuck their noses from beneath their clean white blanket, and with a shudder curled back under and went to sleep.
Anyway, if I can still laugh about it, the world is still an okay place to be.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
It must be my mood today, evolution, reflection, what the future holds. These are the things I ponder on this day of turning forty. I say HURRAH to the wisdom of that leaf waiting patiently while the crocus will pay for its actions. Its potential has declined from being lured by the devilish sun, giving light and warmth that fools. The poor crocus is scared from temptation, and will not reach its full capacity to elicit stardom. In weeks to come the withered crocus will be used for comparison to the near perfect neighbors who stayed tucked from danger to preserve their appearance. Without these upsets we would have nothing to compare the world in which we live. Parachutes can provide the view to appreciate and not be afraid.