Last week was our anniversary. We went to Point Reyes and rented a cabin in the woods to celebrate our special occasion. We've been married for 3 years though that's a bit of an unfair number as we celebrated our first 10 years together with a wedding. So it was our 13-years-going-on-3-years anniversary. Yes, it was.
I was tentative about traveling with the little one but my husband was starry-eyed and also optimistic and so I agreed. We rented a cabin in the woods. We made fires in the wood stove. We drove into town for breakfast at the local diner. We sat on the couch with cups of hot tea and watched the cold rain. We sat on the porch in our pajamas and read books while our son took unusually long naps.
And for just a few days it all fell into place. The leaf on the wet deck in the early morning light suddenly made the difference. The cobweb in the trees. The hawk perched in the limbs high overhead. The steam from my tea rising in the window and curling in the thick air as it stretched for the heat from the woodstove that was also stretching for the air overhead. The way I took the time to watch the steam curl and unfurl and curl again.
The way I simply took the time. The way the time was there for my taking. Yes, it was.