with my feet on the dash, the world doesn't matter

babe,

i've looked you square in the eyes over candlelight. over plates of too expensive food, with jazz music drifting through open bay windows. i've looked at you on your side when you're sleeping, with your hand high above your head and the blankets at your feet. and i've looked at you from behind, that time you led me to our special spot to propose.

but i like looking at you best from the passenger seat. your jaw squared as you maneuver the old bus down the highway. sometimes with the sunset behind us, sometimes in front. but most of all, i like that moment when we're stuck at a red light, and you turn to look over at me. and even through your sunglasses, i can see your eyes squint with love.

up on the mountain

 

robert and i took my brother and sister hiking yesterday, up a little mountain about an hour away. we drove up and back in the VW bus, playing classic songs from the 90s, including the little gem "i saw the sign" by ace of base. it was sweet. with the windows open and the highway rumbling beneath the heavy old beast, i looked back at them. with their boyfriends and girlfriends. with the table propped open and legs sprawled across the seats. and i felt protective. responsible. but so, so blessed that the line between family and friends was so blurred.

once we reached the top of the mountain, we ate supper and watched as a little storm came blowing in. it never poured, but the darkening sky and the cool breeze was nectar to my soul. nectar, i tell you! climbing up those rocks, i saw firsthand the direct relationship between food and energy. my lunch at work yesterday was far from filling, and i felt utterly spent on the ascent. however, after supper i ran back down the mountain. with a speed unknown to myself in so many years. food=energy. let me rephrase that. good, healthy, simple food like turkey wraps and apples=energy.

we got home around eleven. driving away from  my  parents' house, i thought about how lucky i was. my siblings still think i'm cool.

the day is fast approaching when my sister will be married. with a little house and new life of her own. and my brother goes to college next year. and this little cocoon of time, when we're all living in the same town at the same time, is precious and fleeting. so as often as i can, i gather them. in my bus. in my arms. and we travel together into the night, against the speed of time close at our heels.