Friday afternoon I sat in the pick-up line at Owen's school with my dog in the back, Barrett in her seat, my mom beside me, camping gear packed around everyone, and the canoe on top of the car. The window was down; the sun warmed my face; a breeze kept me from getting too hot, and Van Morrison's "Bright Side of the Road" was on the stereo. My husband and Dad and friends were waiting at the park nearby--their trucks similarly packed with stuff.
The weekend only got better from there.
There was the lake, of course. And the woods.
Cooking, eating, some wine, some champagne.
Lots of sitting. And talking. And reading. And sitting.
There was fishing, and swimming, and playing in the woods.
And on Sunday (our anniversary), a morning canoe trip on a still lake, with the sounds of an occasional fishing boat, our paddles, coyotes on the mountain, loons on the lake, and our own silent prayers of praise and thanksgiving.
Oh, and a chattering little girl in the front of the boat.
But that was okay, because she loved it all, too.
