Whatever Remains of the Day

sundayevening

Every moment is a fresh beginning.
~T.S. Eliot

What is pertinent is the calmness of beauty, its sense of restraint. It is as though the land knows of its own beauty, its own greatness, and feels no need to shout it…

For a great many people, the evening is the most enjoyable part of the day. Perhaps, then, there is something to his advice that I should cease looking back so much, that I should adopt a more positive outlook and try to make the best of what remains of my day.

After all, what can we ever gain in forever looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives have not turned out quite as we might have wished?
~Kazuo Ishiguro from The Remains of the Day

I am ashamed to admit how much time I spend looking back, yearning for a day that has long since passed, tossing off these present precious hours as somehow not measuring up to what came before.

There have been nearly forty years of such days on this farm, one flowing gently after another, and most were exactly what I hoped for.

Even when I believe things will never change, they will, and I will.  What is left of the remains of the day may be the best yet.

I toss my heart ahead and set out after it.

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