I can’t imagine a more beautiful spring day than yesterday. The sun was shining, a pleasant breeze was blowing, and promising trees and flowers were showing off their glories everywhere. It was a day like a gift. We humans in Westerly woke up and there it was – a day made for joy and jubilation. I celebrated by taking my first strenuous bike ride of the season. I rode to school along the bright roads, past the familiar homes and farms, up and down the short but challenging hills. With my faithful bike under me, my reliable pack on my back, and one good feeling after another inside, I rode with considerable get-up-and-go. I felt unexpectedly good on this first real ride of the year. I also felt good on the ride home, so good, in fact, that I quickly showered and hurried down to the park. The annual art fair was being held, and I found a shady place on a hillside and read some of Milton amid the happy festivities. It was a rewarding way to relax after my demanding bike ride. I read a few lines of poetry, then watched the cheerful activity among the tents and stalls, then read some more. The breeze was so pleasing it almost felt like it was flipping the pages for me.