White frost, fragile and flimsy, was shining on the rigid grass when I rode by the river in the rosy light of down this morning. It was finally cold and I could see my breath grown together in lukewarm puffs. Under a perfect sky the river looked slow, swollen by last days' rain, dirty of mud and foliage, numb. A perfect sun was rising. That's the kind of winter day I love and I'm blessed because in such a beautiful morning I can ride my bike on this dirty road, far from the traffic and even stop to watch the golden line of trees by the other side of the river, to listen to my heart beating fast.
Yesterday I was a little sad but given that there was nothing I could do to change the situation and a bit instead I could try to change my way to react to it, I had put together all my sweetness and all my reason in a simple message to my busy love. When you care about somebody, you want him or her to be happy and that's impossible if he or she can't try to realize his or her dreams, doing what he or she loves and what's important for him or her. Very often that involves to be away, not only physically but mentally, to be engagged in something that doesn't include you. It can be hard, nervertheless I agree that there is more than love in a full lived life. I'm like that me too: love can't stop you, it should make you fly instead. When you feel sad in spite you know you are loved it's maybe because you are not as engagged as you should be.
Hurry up! I'm riding to school, to teach philsophy, that's I like. I even get paied to do that! some cyclocross now: every morning I have to climb some stairs to get on the bridge, then I pass it and quickly leave the main road for a narrow one, typical of the country near Florence, delimited by high stonewalls. There is a short mild climb when it passes by an old convent, then I turn right riding along a plants nursery and till the last week I could glimpse rows of cyclamens into the open greenhouses. This morning they were all closed and covered to avoid the chill burns the plants. I missed their delicately cheerful pink and purple: almost the only colours among many nuances of green. But in the school's garden I get always amazed by the grace of some trees of roses....
This morning I must interview some students about the last lessons' subjects: sophists and democracy in Athens. Not so difficult but you have to reflect on it. Hours went by busy and dense. After that, I had to meet some parents and to update my register. Eventually, while unlocking my bike and freezing in the icy wind, I checked my phone and was delighted to find a 'good morning' message from far away. It takes so few :)