Solitude

Despite the fact that I have been happily married for more than 30 years, some of my most cherished memories have been by myself. Smearing pigment upon white canvas, getting my hands dirty blending shades of blue, purple and pink. Carrying a curiosity of what it will become.  Feeling the strength of my body glide through the cool waters of the pond, wanting to give up, but not having that choice. Slowly ambling through the woods of evergreen and hardwood, trying to forget about the burden of responsibility that is sometimes too great.   Burying my feet in the cool sand and playfully wiggling the grains off with my bright red painted toes.  Holding the camera, noticing details, bounties, and snapping “the shot.” Dipping the paddle deep into the water to propel the kayak forward while hearing the eerie, yet beautiful cry of the loon. Driving south. Praying in silence. Twisting a red ripe tomato off the vine with juice and seeds running down my chin. 

I needn’t apologize, but recognize that there are many more memories to come.  Yet, I acknowledge that I would not be happy alone, but for moments here and there.