Some Saturdays are stormy or steamy, or so full of obligation that they might as well be Mondays. 

But then comes a clear and fine and free one, at long last, reminding us of all possible glories. 

We could read in a hammock, or hike up a hill.

We could tend to a garden or a pet or a child or ourselves.

We could draw or sing or dance or think.

We could drink a pink drink.

Truth be told, most of those things could happen on Monday too.

Dear ones, the stormy times will come unbidden,

so when we can,

let’s delight in the spirit of sunny Saturdays, 

all the week through.