Life is busy. Who has time to notice the grass much less wander through it barefoot, flinging oneself into its softness? I tend to cling to the notion that my future self will have plenty of chances to savor those moments. You know the kind–the ones involving dappled sunlight and dragonflies.
But not today. Right now I need to pay the mortgage and figure out why the washing machine is making that crazy noise. The problem with my chronic procrastination and utter disdain for the present is that there's no guarantee I'll have another opportunity like today's.
Maybe I can take a tip from Rupert Brooke and fling myself onto that windy hill. Laugh a little. Even if it's just a five minute kind of fling, I can create a creative life. I can kiss the lovely grass today.