Last week my friend Jilly and I kept what has become an annual tradition. We stole a day from our busy lives and spent it together, wandering High Park, chatting excitedly as we walked, exchanging all of the revelations, events and opinions accumulated since our last meeting, pausing to take in the sunshine and natural beauty of the foliage and ponds. We don’t get face time very often, nor do we speak on the phone except to make plans. It matters not.
The week wrapped up with a weekend at the cottage with hubby. Just hubby and I. We swam, we played, canoed, soaked up UV rays, slathered on SPF60, ate when we were hungry – or weren’t – and fanned the flames – literally – of our shore fire and the morning fire hubby stoked to kill the chill. We gazed at the inky black sky spottled with diamonds and the plate sized moon and marvelled at the changing personality of our lake at sundown, and at our good fortune.
I fell into bed exhausted, sun toasted, and contented.