Saturday.

It's better in the daylight, and this is one where you could write reams on the day's early promises, when it all lay stretched ahead unplanned and untouched, still. A Saturday in spring...

"... for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder."
~ The Great Gatsby