We get just a little time. The wind rises and carries us along for a while. We can spread our arms and try to get a little more out of it, but generally we get what we get; the sidewalk is coming. In sports they call that hurried flight your “window,” and there is a lot of conversation about the status of that opportunity — open or closed, opening or closing, painted shut or wedged with a coffee can. People seem to love the metaphor no matter the season, though summer seems most apt.
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