A Ten-Best Day of the Year

On those rare summer days (too rare this year) when the temperature is just right, there's no humidity, and a steady breeze blows as clouds shape-shift overhead, I tell myself, "This is one of the ten best days of the year." I got that from my Dad, and saying it out loud it is one way I keep him close.

It didn't have to be summer - it could be the startling stark blueness of the sky after a snowstorm, the trees still wearing their coats of snow as we stood in the yard in our snowsuits and mittens - but every once in a while, Dad would proclaim the day in question a ten-best. I don't know his exact criteria, but he knew a good day when he saw one. 

As a little girl, it seemed a bit silly (and Dad was silly), but now I find myself in the backyard, stopping to notice the light dappling the garden as a hummingbird stops by to check out the bee balm, or sitting by a lake on vacation, the clouds perfectly reflected on the water, and I say it too.

No matter the time of year, I'm reminded of the fleeting beauty all around us, if we can remember to look, and reminded too that I had a father who loved me.