It was very hot in Atlanta yesterday. It didn’t matter. I drove the car up into the Piedmonts and the air cooled as I drove. The cool air, the bright skies, the smell of cut grass and the millions of Queen Anne’s Lace flowers bobbing as the cars whooshed past conspired together to make me nineteen again. As I grew younger, the spell grew stronger. The curl of hair on my sister’s forehead made her look nineteen too. For whatever reason, God blessed us with youth for an afternoon.
Look around you today. Paint like you were nineteen again.
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