The thought for the day is that there is no hurry. The day is stretched before us and the season of sacred summer has arrived. The woods and fields are abundant with everything that has slept, then stirred, then quickened, then burst forth toward the sun. To honor the day I will not hurry. I will linger on each and every moment from my morning run, through my chores at the barn and a visit with my father. I will watch the sun set and light a candle to extend this day into the night, for this is day of my longing.