Just One of Those Days

We’ve grown accustomed to days like this one.  We awoke—me first, early for a Saturday.  Made some pumpkin spice coffee (a fall favorite we had found the day before, probably on the first day it was available).  I was slow getting started, unpacking luggage, placing recycling in the bin, folding laundry, hanging shirts.  Wanted to drink my quart of water first, then make a green smoothie—the start of yet another effort to drop a little weight before the wedding trip.  Grumbling that this was too late a start on a hot day, she let me drive to the beach, with only a little direction.  Once we were on the beach, life was good.  A steady breeze seemed to offset the too-warm sunshine and our walk was a delight, another beautiful day.  Company was on the way, by now.  They left at six AM.

Home, we parted.  She went to lunch, I power-washed the pool deck.  When she returned we talked about what to do with our day.  Seeing the grandkids?  Probably not, they have a lot going on—their dog died this week, and soccer practice has started.  Company?  Called her mobile phone, didn’t get through; left a message for the travelers.  A movie?  Nothing worth seeing, Clint Eastwood’s newest not coming until next week.  Besides, how do you do that on a day like this?  More beach?  No, company’s on the way, we’ll be beaching tomorrow.  

One of us decided a nap would be good, I read a book.  Two hours later, I had a plan.  We’d take a bike ride in Harbor Town, followed by a sunset meal.  We marveledat the effect of my new meds; walking, doing chores, power-washing the deck and taking a bike ride all in one day would have been unthinkable for me, instead it’s another complete beautiful day.     

By five, I had mounted the rack, inflated the tires and loaded the bikes.  We headed south, and were ready to ride.  First, we saw a collection of octagonal houses on stilts.  There are fifty of them near Harbor Town.  Next, we rode to the Baynard Ruins.  They have been there for nearly three centuries, the ruins are remarkable.  They offer clues to life a long time ago here--nothing like what we are enjoying today.  The weather was probably as beautiful, but what was life like, and how it than today?   

The sunset meal was remarkable.  How does this sound?  Crab cakes, shrimp, fish tacos and a little red wine.  But the real marvel was the sunset; just enough clouds in the west to paint a rosy canvas in the sky.  As we waited, it was warmer than we wanted, but once the sun hit the first cloud, it was near perfect. A beautiful day, indeed.  We headed home, company was on the way.