Odd how it has evolved to be at once a day of quiet
remembrance and a day of raucous picnicking, outdoor playing, throwing the ball
around, wading in the water – in short, the somber and yet not really somber at
all American introduction to the summer season.
We took the middle road.
A stroll not too far from the farmhouse with my daughter...
Then, a lovely, subdued evening of grilling on the porch, with her
and her fiancée (and Ed, and the occasional appearance of Isis)...
Smiling at the colors of this weekend...
Loving the pleasure of being in each others company.
Day is done now. Gone the sun, from the lakes from the hills
from the sky... Ed dozes on the porch, the embers from the new grill (a grill searched for with such intensity just yesterday) nearly
spent.
A storm had passed through just as I was getting the grill
going. A violent, quick storm, all flash and brawn and I hid from it, but the
three gallant ones sat out on the porch, nearly oblivious to the noise, the
threat, the what ifs. One person’s terror may be another's brave moment. It’s
good that we can be different in this way.
My girl says to Ed – I see you have a patriotic t-shirt
on today. Funny girl. It’s a free one, from donating blood and one of the few that’s left in his clean stack at the moment.
Coincidence. Sure. But a sweet one.
