A dream is like a leaf that floats and drifts on the wind and waits for you to catch it before it settles amid the thousands of others coloring the sumptuous landscape. Can you catch it? It is elusive. It moves, changes direction and floats on.
In youth, when you saw something you wanted, you pursued it with . . abandon, confident of the future, knowing that it would be there to comfort you when you slipped on the slick rocks near the stream, or when you slid into third base and tore a hole in your knee.
Those were days of serendipity.
This is today.
Can you still see that leaf floating through the sky?