Such calm to be found by the sea! In the woods! Such a perfect weekend spent with my oldest friend. Somehow, years later, we have not come close to moving through the list of conversations we hope to have, places we want to visit, or the list of cheeses we want to eat together. Such luck!
Things that could be delicious on your hiking trip lunch. Obvious, but happiness inducing list.
Rye bread/rice crackers. Foccacia for Kate
Hummous + Cheddar
Some kind of fish in a can
Red wine sausage if you are feeling extra delux.
I arrive home to Kate semi-naked on the balcony trying desperately to land those first summer rays. Tan-line seeking to prove that winter is finished this time, working to etch clear evidence on our bodies that the leaf shoots are here to stay. That the cold Vancouver rain moved out with the cherry blossom snow. Taking leave of this winter that saw us both turning sore hearts into flurried evenings of dance and wine, embracing the space of living alone. I talk about writing, voice fear of posting all the unseen drafts, speak concern of seeming too forward, too expansive, too much. The breeze picks up. Instead of putting on a shirt she stares at me intently, puts down her drink, notes that my problem isn’t me-it’s vancouver. Too much concrete; not enough love. Maybe I don’t quite believe her but, taken up in the moment, we scream off the balcony variations of “even you vancouver, you need some love.” Twenty times over. Someone shouts back a surprisingly heartfelt “yes! i need love!” We collapse. So much yelling for such a quiet city. I put my clothes back on, make warm lentil salad with shoots of spicy arugula, and ponder. Maybe it was the sun, maybe it was the message. Maybe it is eating salad with bare feet on the fence. For whatever reason, it feels ok to be here.