Carpe diem

At this very instant (as I write), it is 10.07 am on February 29, a day that only comes around every four years. I find myself on a rooftop terrace in Patzcuaro, Mexico, part of a place we have been fortunate enough to call home for the last month. Tomorrow we head back to Mexico City, thence via Toronto to our permanent home in the Northumberland Hills of Ontario. I am determined to hang on to this fleeting moment in time, to sip and savour it like a fine brandy, another treat in this adventure that is life. 

At this very instant, dogs are barking, cars and trucks are rumbling along the cobblestone street below, cocks are still crowing, a megaphone is trumpeting gas delivery, birds are twittering in the trees, voices in animated conversation from passers-by rise and fade, the dance studio is blaring out Arabic rhythms. The sky above my head is cloudless, the sun is bright and burns my northern skin. The town is humming with activity and street markets are in full tilt. The distant lake and girdle of gentle mountains are hazy and soft. I have slept soundly, breakfasted well. My time here has been liberally sprinkled with happy moments; it will linger long in the memory. A Patzcuaro portfolio derived from snapshots of many moments will stock my bank of souvenirs.

At this very instant, many millions of people are occupied doing many millions of things in millions of places around the world, all special and particular and meaningful to each person. Repetition and drudgery, hardship and boredom, pain and brutality may be involved, making the joyful, exuberant moments all the more special when they come around. I wish everybody instants in the sun like this one for me when the fresh, pure air cleanses and wipes away layers of emotional and physical grime and opens up new vistas. Tomorrow, new instants beckon as the reality of routine confronts us. It will be raining or snowing, or overcast. 

Seize the moment. Carpe diem.