Of a Moment, a Dream, and a Setting

"I long to have a conversation with you. I long to stop and be still in one place for a while, but we’d always try to find a place somewhere. On we go, further, until we’ve found the perfect setting."

***

       Lying on my side in the minty moistness of meadow grass, a picnic of green tea, ham, bacon, eggs, and bread half eaten beside me, I watch you through the broad blades of bright grass where insects clamber and wait. You are bent as you try to wash your hands by the grove of blossoms that borders the stream. The only noise apart from your voice, singing, is the rush of water over stones. I should reach for the camera to record this moment but I don’t lift my head.

       I roll on my back and close my eyes. Like time going backwards I can feel the skin of my face drinking in the light of the sun. A bird sings somewhere nearby. And I think that happiness is not a destination or a place that can be inhabited like a home. It’s a moment, like this one. A small moment. A spell.