There is an air of change about and its making me high and giddy and all kinds of thrilled about living. These are the ebbs and flows—this is the way of life.

Tonight, as I headed home from work, the sun, still hanging just there in the sky keeping the world light and hopeful, I smiled one of those giant, genuine smiles that say everything and I felt fucking good—no, great! It’s a funny thing, but when things are good—everything else is better—all in the world is beautiful and there isn’t much that you can’t laugh at or fall in love with. Its lucky that this feeling comes to us—that we can look out onto the sky or the plains or the mountains or whatever it may be and say to ourselves, “Fucking hell, could it possibly be any lovelier?” And no other words can really follow that because you feel so damn much that words just don’t give due credit. So you trot along in a loving haze—goofy and mesmerized by it all.

Which is what I am doing…trotting and thrilled. Finding myself writing love sonnets about a pink sunset and friends that call and cats that purr. A leaky exhaust on my neighbors car is music as there dinner on the oven wafts thru my open windows. How have I not chosen to feel like this always? Why must it come and go?

At any rate, it’s in the air now and deep within my lungs. And it feels how everything should feel and I am entirely happy.