Last Wednesday was perfection. After a busy morning and afternoon, Mr. S and I were able to slip off just before sunset to enjoy a quiet walk on the beach.
The evening was beautiful, the air soft and almost tropical, and the ocean was gently stirring. As the first signs of twilight began to transform the sky into pastel shades of baby blue and powder pink, Mr. S took my hand and we stood quietly to admire the view.
Long moments passed and the evening light turned delicate and lavender as the colors of the twilight sky faded gently into one another.
I don’t remember when I’d felt more at peace. It seemed as if the world stood still for just a moment or two. Mr. S said he felt it, too, and after we’d admired the seemingly endless expanse of that beautiful evening sky, we began to walk once more, hand in hand, through the sand. Before we realized it, we were almost a mile down the beach. The light had shifted, and I turned, gazing into the distance.
The waves grew stronger and began to crash more forcefully against the shore as the wind picked up speed. Mr. S was afraid I was cold, so he gave me his sweatshirt to wear. By the time we reached the dunes, sunset was waiting for us, as if to welcome us back.
It was magnificent.
“I’m glad we’re here, that I have the chance to be here with you. Just think, someday, we’ll bring our grandkids here, and show them this same ocean, the same sky.”
I turned to find Mr. S smiling down at me. His words called up such a beautiful image that I found myself smiling, too. “Let’s bring them here at sunset,” I said. “We can kiss in front of them and make them say, eww.”
He laughed and put his arms around me. “It’s a deal.”
I rested in his embrace for several long moments, feeling the strength of his arms, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, and I realized once more how deeply in love with him I am.
There are moments in life that make you believe in magic. For me, it was one man. One sunset. One embrace on the beach.
I wish it were possible to capture those golden moments, to place them gently in a glass bottle and preserve them for all time, so I can someday look back and remember this time in my life, and re-visit that fleeting January evening of consummate perfection.
As Mr. S held tightly to my hand, assisting me over the slight rise of the sandy dune leading to the path that would take us home, I suddenly realized that I was taking those moments with me. They will be tucked away in my mind–and in my heart.
That’s what memories are for.