Sunday : from their home to my home

The last leisurely hours in Minneapolis. In their apartment...






... then at brunch, because you know now (see previous post) there will always be brunch. This time, we eat at the Eastside which gives me that final taste of city.






And a final long pause which, honestly, is never long enough to cover all that I want to ask, all that she wants to ask.






It is a beautiful day outside. As promised, the sun is strong, the air is warm. Oh, but the sadness of leaving!

Never mind. We have planned encounters ahead. Looking forward is as familiar to me as any other feeling that I bring to the table.


And speaking of realizing a future wish, here's a tiny bit of news: Ed reports that the chickens are out and about and no one is thinking of killing another. Or if they're thinking it, they're not acting upon their deep rooted desires to eliminate anyone who stands in the way of total stardom. In other words, it appears that the pecking order is holding, with only a few missing feathers to show for it.


Back home now. Ed and I go for a late afternoon walk. Not too long, not too far. Just enough to feel the breeze coming in across Lake Waubesa, all the way to the frozen pond where a sandhill crane does a shout out to the coming of spring.