It was a walking day of children. Their enthusiasm finally set free after a long winter which still showed piles of hard dirty mounds of snow in hidden places.

Little ones trying out their new training wheels, a boy holding a leaning ice cream cone, girls who refused to get out of their floral dresses twirling on the path.

There was still ice on the reservoir, the wind blowing off that giant ice-cube felt good under the scorching sun. Odd to see frozen ice while you are wearing shorts and running shoes. (Even if it is Calgary) The mountains in the distance had snow on them but the Canada Geese had found what looked like a thawing stream to shake their legs.

And then the conversations! No hats or scarves, no one bundled up anymore, spring has arrived. Happy voices carried a long way. A perfect day for a writer walking away towards a story. (Tweet This)

His helmet sat perfectly on his head, the strap still attached at the neck while he and his Mom sat on a park bench and ate the treat they had packed. He had unwrapped the waxed paper and bit and talked, bit and talked as I approached them. And then the most glorious words, said with such joy. He was maybe seven.

“I have been dreaming about it all my life! And now it’s finally happening!” (Tweet This)

How could such enthusiasm not be appreciated? It didn’t matter what he was referring to. I didn’t need to hear any more of the conversation (although I was tempted). He was uninhibited, he was exuberant, he was a dreamer! And my goodness, he had waited his “whole life”!

Yes, maybe he was seven years old.

How long have most of us been waiting to dream? Do it! Do it Now! Listen to that little sitting guy whose feet did not even reach the ground.

Don’t wait your whole life.