I walk outside and all I can hear is a faint whistle. It's real life beckoning. The day is shrouded in gray flannel skies. At a moment's notice I'm somewhere else. A warmth is felt then. Transported to a different day and in a moment all its own. Then, a cold gust a wind rustles the leaves, bringing me back to where I am. I have to start walking now, but all the little moments will be there at day's end as gray day turns to a long, dark and cold night.