I have a supremely enjoyable memory of sitting on the shore of Lake Michigan and watching the sun set. This was during the phase of "my life has just completely fallen apart". I was at a gathering of friends up north at some one's "summer cottage". [What a disingenuous euphemism: it was huge.] After a delightful dinner with so many of my closest friends, I simply wanted to be alone for a while. I took my weekend-sized glass of scotch and walked down to the end of the backyard, i.e., Lake Michigan. A pair of chaise lounges there sat far enough from the house to be encompassed with quiet. No one else was on the beach. Peace and quiet.
A while later, BirdMan came out, apparently with the same intention. We were both, actually, right in the middle of the exact same "my life has just fallen apart". He apologized for disrupting me, and asked if he could join me. Sure, I said.
He pulled the other chaise lounge over next to mine, and settled in with his own weekend-I'm-not-driving-anywhere glass of scotch. We sat for at least half an hour in the mutual quiet, holding hands.
It was so pleasant. The intimacy of simply being together with a dear friend. With no distractions: no traffic, no radio, no TV, no loud neighbors, no conversation, no children screaming, no expectations of good humor. A supremely peaceful moment.
I am looking for more opportunities to have this peace & quiet with Mr.Gopher. To simply be together. Maybe our next Date Night can be dinner and silence.
2 days ago