Hey, the world didn’t end Friday night! That’s a relief — though I probably could have skipped this deadline if the Mayan prophesy had panned out. Still, today we should all feel a little bit like Ebenezer Scrooge, who wakes up on Christmas morning thrilled to learn that he is alive, and even better, that the three ghosts visited him all in one night, so he can still enjoy the holiday nog at his nephew’s house party.
It’s never a bad time to count your blessings, but the pending apocalypse provided a particular moment of reflection. At least, it put me in mind of the many people and things I would miss if the world had ended Friday. Raindrops on roses didn’t make the list, but the icy waters off Plum Island Sound on a steamy August day, the first crocus, the throaty sound a cello makes . . . these are the things I’d mourn should obliteration come: