Joe came home last night at midnight. This, though, doesn't seem to have affected the day itself at all. This morning, this beautiful, gorgeous, shining morning, the birds chirp with a special bounce in their song, twittering happily in the hopes that spring will soon be here. The sun radiates above, giving the whole world a face-lift, making what was once tired and old, bright and new again. The grass tickles the toes of all around, a massage for tired feet. The man across the street sees it as the perfect time to manicure his lawn, and the hum of his lawnmower interweaves with that of the birds. Silver wind-chimes provide the percussion for the morning's symphony, clinking melodically in the warm breeze. The light wind floats in from the outdoors, ruffling Joe's curtains lightly, crisp and fresh with new morning light. Small children giggle merrily in the park, as carefree and lighthearted as the birds. Billowy clouds drift gently above, forming shapes never previously imagined, shapes for all to look at and wonder about. It is not cold, yet not oppressively warm; nature herself could not have picked a more perfect temperature. Dogs aren't barking and children aren't fighting; it would mar the stunning weather. It was the kind of day where the whole world wishes to step out into the great outdoors and try its luck. All except for Joe, of course. He's still sleeping peacefully, letting the gorgeous day slip by.