Sunsets make me sad. Sunsets and three-day weekends. Because after the sun slips down one day there are only two left and then only one and then we have to go back to doing those things we would have to have done anyhow if it hadn't been for those quick days that are over and done, over and done.
But this time was different, somehow. There was a street fair. The kind with lemonade. And small children on scooters who are somehow not as annoying as all of the children on scooters on streets with no fairs on them. There was visiting shops, and there were new summer tennis shoes and ice cream from a truck. There was a roller coaster. A big one. Next to a beach. There were corn dogs and more lemonade, and there was sand. There was laughter. There were amusing companions. And at the end of it all, there was watching the sun set and not being sad, for once, about the end of a day because the day had been such a full one. And because I had just been sitting on a breezy hill and thinking how nice it is to do the things I want to do. How nice it is to be free.
{coaster, flickr}
6 maids a-milking:
I'm so glad that you had a lovely three day weekend, I can feel it in your words that it was one of those rare and perfect weekends and you deserve it.
oh my, did you make it all the way out to coney island?
I love three day weekends but I get sadder and sadder as evening approaches and on the morning I have to go back to work I inevitably lie in bed with the covers over my head and swear that I am going to boycott work entirely. I think that means I need a vacation. Or a new job.
Corn dog! Yay!
YES Coney Island.
(And yes, Rachel--that's how I am. Except I cry rather than swear to boycott work. Yes vacation. Or something.)
A 4:3 work:play ratio makes so much more sense than a 5:2 one anyway. Every weekend should be like this.
Post a Comment