To me, looking back over it, seems so foreshortened that I scarcely understand, for instance, how a young man can decide to ride over to the next village without being afraid that -not to mention accidents- even the span of a normal happy may fall far short of the time needed for such a journey.
Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, I will try again tomorrow.
It turns what we have into enough, and more.
The beach is a great place to relieve the soul-crushing stress you build up in the traffic going to the beach.
What you plant now, you will harvest later.
Even so, time is amazingly fair and forgiving.