It was Easter. It was April. It is still blessed.

I look back at my own plog and wonder where the time has gone. “Why is the rum gone,” I ask — but instead of ‘rum’ it is ‘time.’ An infinite source that is limited by coffee, sleep and the ever rotating motion of the rock we build on.

The little humans in our house had cheerful laughs as they hunted for the plastic eggs. Colorfully navigating our small apartment. We make the most out of the space we have, that is something I will say with complete confidence. It could have been a regular day. It could have been another Easter, one that I remember when I was as little as these cool cats — going to church and during the local neighborhood hunt, lurching for the most eggs, both real and not real (we all know the not so real eggs were the best). My lovely wife made it anew experience, for all of us. And I could not be happier.

I took these wanting to remember those moments. And I feel like I did just that.