The day is not beautiful. The snow has melted leaving dead grass and piles of leaves visible. What snow is left is black and brown. Along the road, garbage that has been tossed out of windows is no longer obscured. There is nothing pure about it.
The sky is not beautiful. It is only one color: gray. Even the clouds are obscured by heaviness. It is not a day to lie on your back, gazing up, imagining what you see. There is nothing silver about it.
The trees are not beautiful. They have no leaves, nothing green. Seemingly, nothing living. There is no promise of spring about it.
But this day is what we have been given.
Today, babies will be born and people will die.
Greetings and separations will be met both by “I love you,” and with silence.
Children will dream dreams.
Elders will provide wisdom.
Art will be created.
Music will be heard.
A sunset will be seen.
There is only beauty about it.