The present and 'presents'

There is something special about those clear blue-skied days that appear before the real onslaught of winter.  They appear like an unexpected gift, the pleasure doubled as a result.  Walking on the common yesterday, was one such unexpected present; walking through the woods, the sunlight bouncing off the water; children running and squealing, their parents chatting and it struck me how much pleasure we all get from these 'gifts' and how by living in the moment, as everyone seemed to be doing yesterday afternoon, we can really live in the present and appreciate it; because it was unexpected people had abandoned their usual routines, left the homework, the Sunday dishes, the phonecall to the parents, and even the ritual tidying of the garden had been put on hold.  We were truly living in the moment and taking advantage of what it had to offer.  My present was to feel the warm tendrils of sun; the sharp spike of the chestnut cases I held in my hand; the long shadows on the ground and the rare but cherished moment when a dragonfly alighted on my bent knee and I had a moment of pure and unadulterated happiness...