Lately I've been high on the sunshine, but not necessarily high on life. The clouds in the early morning skies have spoken of this fact as they meander in baby blanket colors across the horizon, content to just be and then float on. I blame my ennui on the weather, fretful dreams the night before, or too much popcorn but really I am merely waiting for something wonderful to emerge from under the melting snow. So, when I read the fortune cookie message frozen under my front tire this morning I knew the gist of it was for me, in spite the triteness that only mass produced fortune cookies can contain: You cannot love life until you live the life you love.
Life is good if not a trifle mysterious.