“This day will never,
no matter have long you live,
— Naomi Shihab Nye
You’re headed back to the front lines of the war tomorrow. There’s only one solution: Make a run for it.
It’s easy to forget that you only have this one day. You feel a little like Ferris Bueller, without Wrigley Field and a sports car. You head for the hills.
Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans, the prophet Lennon said although he likely swiped it. You wonder if he had regrets. Allowing Yoko to sing on the Double Fantasy album for one. But then you think about “Watching the Wheels.”
I’m just sitting here
watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
And so you find yourself on a little trail. A red-tufted bird sits on top of a sign trying to advertise himself as a nighthawk. The cactus blooms are everywhere. The trail goes on forever and wants you to come along with it. Who could say no?
Mo crashes, thumbing her nose at the social distancing rule of keeping 6 feet between herself and the ground, but luckily lands on her head, averting serious damage. Rudolph is standing on the trail, wearing a face mask and waving toilet paper, always a sure sign of a successful run. The sky is blue, the perfect canvas for a raptor to paint his masterpiece. And you run.
Always, you run.
This day will never, no matter how long you live, happen again. That’s OK. Once was good enough. Ferris’ words echo in your head. “You’re not dying, you just can’t think of anything good to do.” Today, you had something good to do indeed.
You put your head down and prepare to head back to the merry-go-round. It never ends, this small daily war, until it does.
Someday, Mr. Lennon, someday. Imagine …