On July 2, 1995, when our child was ten years old, the two of us rode our bikes to Solon on the state park trail. We read the newspaper and ate breakfast at the Country Café. On the way home we stopped to pick wild blackberries growing along the trail. I made blackberry jam with some of them. It was hard not to eat them all as we picked them.
We then rode to watch the Freedom Festival regatta by the public boat landing. The sky was clear blue with a few cumulus clouds. Sails billowed in a breeze imperceptible from the shore.
Summer days like that are a reminder life is always just beginning. We live in each moment yet look forward to every new day with the hope that positive things will take place. Chance plays a role, although we must be active agents in making our future the best it can be.
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