My beautiful thing for Day 19 was hardly a thing at all. It was just a breeze, which caught me unawares as I stepped out onto the porch, and set my heart aflutter. If it is difficult to describe a smell, it is even more difficult to describe a breeze, especially a spring breeze. It is heavy with the warm moisture that has been lacking in the dry air of winter, and carries a whole mixture of smells so vague that you wondered if you smelled them at all. Yet they are there, the scents of thawing earth and wakening trees, of brooks set free to run again and flowers thinking about pushing up through the dirt. And sometimes, as on this particular evening, the breeze carries a sense of indescribable excitement, the thrill of something mysterious and wonderful, and maybe even a little bit frightening, that is about to happen. I’ll try to let you know when it does.