You are alive.

This evening I spent some time tending to the garden; pulling weeds, raking, etc. My, what a beautiful day! Birds chirping, ducks quacking, cows mooing, and the sea gulls--Oh, the sea gulls! I felt like I must be living next to an ocean. Perhaps they think I am the ocean. I am wearing blue, after all. Well, I dug up my special rocks and dear old Gimli and an old rotten tomato here, rotting corn there. I thought of all the things I'm going to do differently this year. And not just in the garden. I need to make some changes, and being outside for some time to clear my head of the noise in my life was wonderful.

I later jumped on the trampoline and watched the sun set. One thing I love about watching the sunset, is looking to the east and watching this little part of the world say goodbye to the sun for the night. It's as if the tips of the trees grasp onto the last bits of light and cry, "don't go! Not just yet. Stay and keep us warm a little bit longer." The birds fly from the shadows as the shadows lengthen to try and catch up to the light. And the all-knowing sun smiles back and says, "I always come back. So let me go." The trees seem lonely and cold when the light leaves their branches until they realize they aren't alone. So they huddle together for warmth and support knowing that the night will be broken by the light once again.

So serene I felt on that trampoline tonight. And I laid there and thought of how badly I want to change many of my habits, and how much I resist myself in my own desires. I felt like calling to the sun and begging it to stay a bit longer to fill me with more of the hope it had so graciously provided in the hour past. And watching the trees reach to each other, hearing the birds call out in support of fellow birds, I felt the sun whispering "I'll be back again tomorrow. Let me go and I'll always return."

Thank you, sunshine.

And thank you, Owl City.