Twenty years ago, the house across the street was for sale. One evening, while K. and I were sitting out in our yard playing with baby Blue, a couple came out of the house and stood on the sidewalk looking at it. As she tells it, I walked up to them and definitively said, "You are the people who are going to buy this house!" They were puzzled, as they had just seen it, and had not decided anything.
Well, they did buy the house, and she became one of my dearest friends. Lives change, and the house was sold again a few years back. We see each other now and then, but I miss the everydayness with her terribly. She's wicked fast smart, a poet at heart, and a brilliant gardener (our yard misses her, too!).
This year she bought a little house across the water.
It's a sweet spot, full of light, and her evolving big garden.
Yesterday, I joined her there.
There was sitting in the autumn sunshine, munching on tomatoes, nasturtiums, blackberries, plums and blueberries.
A retreat-like day.
There was even charming conversation over the fence with the neighbors. His name is Wilmer, I love that.
While she tended her plants and called out their wondrous attributes and scientific names, I worked on the story square that had been promised at her house warming months ago.
I'm trying to stitch bounty, beauty and light into this piece.
She deserves all of that, and more.
