Real life is meanwhile quiet and somewhat less magical than the fantasies one might find in books. I walked from the parking lot up the hill to the store beyond Safeway and, having been entranced by the warm sunlight and fresh air and the streaks of cirrus clouds that floated above the pine woods, I was actually surprised upon finding that my legs were a bit sore from the climb. I had briefly been bemused into thinking I was eighteen, I suppose. The collapse of that delusion in a sudden shortness of breath or a shooting pain in the hip, for just two examples of the myriad ways in which it can collapse, is always distressing.
Not distressing enough today to ruin the day, though, since the day brought me another very tasty watermelon and a fresh six pack of Sierra Nevada Summerfest. I guess can deal with the renewed increase of the heat, even if I'm not eighteen anymore.
And yesterday I thought it was the 21st all day. And the brain doesn't even go first.