Contentment

I once thought our lake house was gorgeous… then I took another glimpse of that other body of water,

the one where people surf before breakfast, regardless of the water temperature.

Where huge clumps of seaweed make me wonder about “what else could be growing here below sea level, unseen by human eyes.”

But, now it was time to leave.

We gave them continuous updates all day long…”we’re leaving the hotel… we’re at the airport…. we’re taking off in an hour, I’ll call you just before we take off. We’ve landed… our next flight is in another two hours.”

And then,

“I can’t get him to stop crying.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know… he says he’s sick.”

“Again!?”

“No,” he says, “I”m not really sick… I just need a parent.”

Finally, we flew into a cold, gray sponge of dreary asphalt, covered in sheets of rain that had already been coming down hours before we arrived. Left behind are the flamboyant colors of roses still in bloom, the ocean, sunshine and vegetables — still in season. Thousands of miles behind us now, and I couldn’t be more content.