It really was only yesterday (wasn’t it?) when the redbud’s delicate pink dusted this tree, when the dogwood burst into blooms of pure white held on spindly branches, reminding me of baby’s breath in a floral arrangement. Only this was nature’s floral arrangement, and on a much grander scale.
It really was only yesterday (wasn’t it?) when I was young and ideas flowed like late-night cups of coffee, when the future stretched out ahead of me in an endless parade of days and possibilities.
And now the fall colors are here, and the season moves inexorably towards winter, gaining momentum towards that end with each passing day.
And now my days seem short, and the possibilities limited.
It really was only yesterday (wasn’t it?)