Perhaps We Should ALL Have a Nice Day

It is 6:32 a.m. on a Wednesday, and I am walking in the side of the street.  The street!  Like a common hooligan!  I forgive myself quickly, the sidewalks being a heaped mess of frozen/melted/frozen topography, challenging ribbons of ankle-breaking treachery. 
And I watch for cars.
Just three months ago, this time of day looked much the same as midnight.  Today, the sun is cresting the horizon; and the world is filled with the soft, hopeful light of impending spring. 
A man walking a yellow Lab and sensibly walking on the sidewalk approaches.  It is a neighbor.  He raises an arm.  “Mornin’, Pearl!” he shouts.
I wave back.  “Good morning!”  I leave off his name, as I am unsure of it.  Embarrassingly, I rarely remember names, only faces.
He takes another couple steps, slows.  “Eighteen degrees this morning,” he says.
I turn to walk backwards, keep moving.  I have, after all, a bus to catch.  “You can really tell, too, can’t you?  Practically warm!”
He grins.  “I hear it’ll be 40 degrees by the weekend,” he says.
“We’ll have to set up a pool in the backyard,” I say, “just to cool off.”
 “We lived through another one!” he says, moving further and further away. “Have a good day!”
“You, too,” I say. 
And just like that, it is decided:  we will both have a good day. 
The sky seems to brighten just a little more.