It was one of those perfect days.
You know the kind. The ones where time itself seems to slow down, and the minutes stack upon themselves in boundless abundance. It was the kind of day where you can hit up brunch, the farmer’s market, and wine tasting….all to find out that it’s still only lunch time. So you drive down country roads and let the hair blow across your face. And you don’t care for a second how it will look when you’re done. When you finally get to wherever it is that you’re going. You breathe deep.
And you let go.
You sit on a porch swing. And eat homemade gazpacho. In white Pottery Barn bowls that make you feel like maybe, just maybe, Giada would be proud.
You walk in bare feet, and you slow dance in the kitchen.
And when the light finally sinks low and the day sighs into slumber, you say goodbye to the setting sun as it shines over your whole world. The two of them there together swimming in the water.
And you remember that this, this, is what living is for.