The Irony of a Beautiful Morning

We parked the car facing the water and watched as fishing boats drifted in and out of the small marina. It was a spectacular fall morning. Not a cloud in the sky. But windy. When I opened the window the sweet smell of apples, rotting leaves and sea air drifted in- what a beautiful fall perfume.

We watched people getting in and out of their cars, dogs leashed and unleashed, running wildly against the wind. Gleeful in that way that only dogs can be – so in the moment. Friends met and wandered together. We watched an older couple take their bikes out – the handsome older man adjusted the handlebars, handed the bike to his wife and adjusted his. They zippered their coats and exchanged a few words – maybe something about how cold it was.

Across from us a woman in an SUV was buckling her toddler in a car seat – the wind blowing her long pony-tailed hair. We watched as her stroller drifted into a sea of pigeons – drafted by the apple sea wind. We laughed watching the scene unfold in front of us and remarked how the pigeons competed for the small morsels of almost nothing. Two black birds landed in their midst and I wondered if they were partners in life. I could see the top of one of their heads – feathers a little ruffled like he had just woken up. Hair tousled.

The woman in the SUV pulled slowly out of the parking lot not wanting to run over the sea of birds surrounding her and laughed as she drove by knowing that we had watched this scene unfold. We smiled back.

Then we sat and waited – listening to the wind – watching the everyday life park tableau unfold all over again. And we waited. Each one of us with a cell phone on our lap.  I wondered who would answer the phone, take the call. And so we waited again. Apple sea air drifting in now and then. A tall ship going by. Another dog. I couldn’t hear it but I felt the ticking of time. Like I have before but in other situations. The agony of a life going this way or that way. Each road entirely different.

When the phone rang it severed the almost cinematic hour we had spent in our dog dirty car waiting to hear news.  And when I answered I felt as unready as I had ever felt about something that I had no control over but life calls. So I answered.

“It’s Dr. Galway’s office” – the young voice said at the other end. “It’s a go”, she said matter of factly. “It’s a go.” I said looking at Dave. “It’s a go.” Those were the words we had been hoping to hear. Our boy is not ready to leave us yet so we proceeded into the breathlessly beautiful fall morning to find ourselves a warm cup of coffee.