slide down my cellar door

After lunch with my friend, we lingered in the Olive Garden parking lot, extending our conversation so as to soak up the sun and admire the flowering apple trees. After a quick and fruitless jaunt to Christmas Tree Shoppe (a first -- I have never left that store without buying something), I trekked back home on this, the most beautiful day the year so far. Windows down, hair up, music on. The air's movement was too eager to be called a breeze, but not so zealous as to be frightening. The construction delays that frustrated me on the way to lunch were gone now that the afternoon was growing late. It was a glorious half hour of driving.

As I neared the house, I longed not to go inside. I called Ted and asked him to come out and play. He eagerly agreed. I stopped at the house to gather him in my happy Boom Box (which was spiffy and shined after a nice car wash yesterday), and off we went. We stopped at the post office to drop a letter, then wandered around town looking for nothing in particular, figuring we'd know it when we found it.

We ended up at a park on Long Island Sound that we've never entered in the 7½ years living here. Large, twisty sculptures punctuated the walk along the water. A girls' lacrosse team practiced on a fraction of the immense field across the lot from the shore. The walking path still bore the signs of the recent Nor'easter which, when combined with increased high tide, flooded much of the area. Seashell shrapnel co-mingled with pebbles, seaweed, and old dead leaves. Moss-filled clams were vertically embedded in the mud.

We walked for a bit, then sat on a bench to watch the ripples on the water and the variety of birds. There were seagulls, of course, but also swans, mallards, a singular and seemingly baby sandpiper, a singular and very tall crane, and a few unidentifiable birds floating on both air and water. I took some pictures. The rock island where four, five, or six of them had taken up residence slowly disappeared below an incoming tide. Not that it dissuaded the birds from perching there.

Ted and I talked about our day, our projects, our plans for the future. Then we'd walk some more and stop at another bench to enjoy a different angle, look at the waterfront houses, watch two crew boats and their coach practicing on the windy-topped waves, and wander out onto the thick, crunchy sand of a boat launch.

This occupied three hours of our time. Only a chill slight enough to make fingers shiver convinced us to head back home. What a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

~~~
Song: "Palo Santo" by Shearwater. Pretty music.
Other: Taking pictures with my fun-but-simplistic camera, on a day when every angle of life was picturesque, made me long for a better camera.