Upon every anniversary weekend, echoing a moment I had on our original wedding day, I find a little nook of time in which I’m on my own. Whether it’s a quick trip to the store, a minor shopping excursion, or a simple walk when Andy is occupied elsewhere, I invariably find a pocket of solitude that makes me miss him, allowing me to appreciate his company just a little bit more. On this weekend, it was on Saturday morning. To ease the amount of walking Andy would have to do, I went to pick up breakfast at the nearby cafe. It was here where I found The Moment Alone.
Stepping out onto Braddock Park, I paused and admired the island in the middle of the street. The fountain was on and the sound of water and birds made for a lovely soundtrack. When the sun is at its earliest and latest ~ that’s when it’s most beautiful on our street. Well, much of the morning is enchanting when the sun is out, and into this scene I made my solitary way.
Cherry trees and magnolias painted pink before a blue sky, and all the beauty of the day lent my mission a magic not always apparent when running errands. I slowed my step and took my time, soaking in the glorious promise of the day. Andy would still be in the shower and there was no rush.
Overhead, flowering pears reached across the street and intertwined their branches, as if holding hands above those of us who passed beneath. (A glimmer of this magic is repeated in the immediate aftermath of a snowstorm, but it is far less appealing then.)
I made it back with our pastry (and an extra macaron for Andy) and we looked out onto the blossoming street. The Washing of the Rings was next…
