One Day at a Time
As this season of picnics, bike rides, and boundless light starts to soften its intensity, I am reminded of the sweet days of summer when, as a kid, I would charge into the house as the sun began to set with a sweat stained face, filthy-dirty feet, and usually a good scrape or two. I lived in a neighborhood where people wandered in and out of everyone else’s house and most of the kids made up games in the street that would spill into the endless row of backyards. As much as I liked being part of the neighborhood cacophony, there was something sweetly satisfying as dusk arrived, and all the kid’s names would be called from their respective porches signaling that the day’s end had begun.
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