Monday, March 30, 2009
The weekend before last I rode the ferry to meet my friend Rachel at Orient Point on Long Island. I packed my camera, a yogurt, a fleece, my cell phone, water, and Eat Pray Love into my Camel-Back. I pretended to read and instead looked for stories around me. There were prospective photos abound, like a brand new grandmother's quiet moments with the baby, a distinguished looking couple celebrating their 50th with a trip to the vineyards, two women sharing a cookie and completing one another's sentences. I was too shy to snap so I took mental pictures and they set a pleasant tone for my excursion. Rachel lost her mom this past summer. We didn't talk much but rode bikes together by the water against the wind. We slipped into a family owned vineyard for some quality rosé wine (hard to find in the US), and accepted an offer to tour the barn, vineyard, and home of the owners. Then we daydreamed about a life such as this while in line at the pie stand, where I picked out a Blackberry Apple for my husband. In a blink she was waving me off as the ferry pulled out of the harbor. I was hungry and devoured my book, then napped to the sound of Madness, Siena losing to Louisville. Quiet thoughts, calm smile, and in the moment start to finish. Happy as the fish in the sea.