If so, then they, too, would surely enjoy the view from the highest and most classic of our fair city’s concrete temples devoted to the storing of automobiles, with the added bonus, for them, of not having to decide whether to experience the full 360 degrees out in the elements or a more constrained horizon behind the protecting parapet.
Such trade-offs mean nothing to an ectoplasm through whom the spring bluster blusters freely.
Sometimes, it makes sense to only plan ahead one step at a time; you can trust your future self to come up with something it will prefer when the opportunity presents itself.
Our hopes and dreams make reality real; if we love hard enough, anything may be possible, even reanimation; revitalization is certain even without the metaphysical baggage.
The lowering of the Lake, just over a century ago means that here in the 21st century, we are walking on water our hundred year-old selves would have had to; and if that’s not miraculous enough, consider, in the fullness of time, that the moon is so, as well.
Some days just overflow with sensations: a familiar cycling route made easier due to the power of anticipation; a classroom where real connections are made; local infrastructure working as designed for crosstown access lickety-split; dreamers dreaming onstage and a little luncheon to boot; the usual usual, as usual; happy hour feeling happy; then up and over all over again.
It’s a good thing that our eyes are bigger than our stomachs. While this may, as Mom knew best, cause minor hiccups or even upchucks in a literal smorgasbord context, metaphorically, it’s all for the best, as it means that no matter how much you see, you can always see more, just beyond that infernal curtain.
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