Emma's Reflection

It was a solitary sort of day. The kind of day that made one want to walk in a large meadow, or stroll in a thin forest, or meander along an English gravel country road, or row into the middle of a lonesome lake by one's self. It wasn't sunny but rather chilly, as if it was the beginning of fall. The sky was overcast with clouds that threatened to rain. It was the sort of day that if you wore a long warm dress you'd feel like a girl of older days. It made one want to live in that day forever. It was a day that made one feel as if they loved the whole world. It was the sort of day that if two unsure lovers were left alone they'd be married in a moment. It was a day that made one want to think. To think about nothing. It was a day that didn't make one happy or giddy, but rather thoughtful and content. It made one want to write it down so that one would never forget. It was a dreamy sort of day. It made one thankful to be alive. It made one wish cars or horns had never been invented. It made one wonder how anybody could even suppose the world was made by random chance. It made one wish that everybody felt as wonderful as they did. It was a wishing and wonderful sort of day.