Future Fond Memories

I woke up hungover on a June Sunday morning. I mentally kicked myself for drinking so much, and halfheartedly swore off alcohol for the next month. I felt guilty for missing church, especially since it was my Sunday to work in the nursery, but resolved that sleep would be better and knew someone could fill in. After a failed attempt to keep down some orange juice and a few hours of fitful dozing, I heard Kate stirring in the kitchen and smelled coffee brewing. I decided to get up. I chewed ice and listened to Kate talk about her weekend photographing a wedding in Arkansas, and we swapped anecdotes about the crazy and stupid things we both did on Friday and Saturday. She left for her usual morning run, and I tried to gauge whether or not I could spend the rest of my Sunday swimming in the Mississippi heat, as I had originally planned. I had invited Marshall, and he called to say that he was sill on board, so I put on my swimsuit and headed out.

I met Marshall at his house. I filled him in on the party he missed the night before, and he fixed me hot tea and toast. Once he was satisfied that I would neither faint or get sick, we rode the golf cart to the river to swim there before meeting my church friends to swim at their lake house pool. We kicked off our flip-flops and made our way along the muddy river bank in our bare feet to where the water was warm and shallow and a large stretch of sand made the perfect beach. We stripped to our swimsuits and waded out, letting the current wash over us, soaking up the sun, listening to the wind rustle through the trees, and thanking the river for giving us this beach when we needed it most. We lay in the current, using our hands or feet as anchors in the sand, and talked about life. We promptly decided it would be folly to leave our sanctuary and join our friends, and enjoyed the solitude the woods and river gave us. We ran around and played like children before Marshall decided we should share our good fortune (and get some more food in me). We left the river and went back to the house.

Marshall made us scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast while I swept the kitchen. Our friends declined our invitation to the river, but since we were now full and sleepy from playing in the sun, we weren't too disappointed and opted for lazing on the couch instead. When we finally felt rested enough to stand, we drove into town to pick up Marshall's motorcycle. When we returned, he worked on it while I wandered the property and played with the dog. I picked blackberries at the wood's edge, listening to the cicadas and feeling at home for the first time in a long time. I watched the dog sniff his way into some tall grass and decided it was best if I didn't follow. Shorts and flip-flops offer no protection against snakes, and when I saw a slim black form in the grass in front of me, was glad of my decision.

I walked back to the house and shared my bounty with Marshall. It was nearing sunset, and he had some errands to run. We said goodbye with promises to have more Sundays together soon. I drove back to town, bought groceries, put gas in the car, and went home with a clear head, a peaceful heart, sun-bleached hair, and sandy skin.