The other day, two of my blonde, beautiful, and bright friends and I sat on the beach lucky. The sky was a perfect palate of changing hues. Big puffy white clouds slipped by as dark purple grey and pink ones slid around in front and in back of them. The beach grass was sticking straight up lime green and the water was tropical blue-green and cold. We ate lunch, changed our chairs to the position of the sun, finished a challenging crossword together, and laughed a lot. And we cried a little. At one point late in the day, we shared with other onlookers the beams from heaven reaching from the clouds to the shore. They seemed to be bouncing all around us as if we were caught in a rapture of sun streaked strobe lights. It was a moment.
About twenty minutes later we ended our afternoon and drove home. On the way, just around a blind curve, a little Yorky puppy stood in the middle of the road. We pulled over, popped him in the back seat, made a pretty extensive seach of the surrounding neighborhood and found no clue to who the owners were. The dog had a purple harness but no collar or ID. We decided we would keep him overnight and call the MSPCA in the morning. About a quarter of a mile down the road, we saw a couple walking their dog. I pulled over and asked if they knew this puppy. “That’s Elvis!” the man said, “his owners are looking for him”. We said good bye to Elvis and to the beautiful gift of a late summer afternoon.
I live for times like these. I think we all do.
