You and I, now we walk across the low tide and up the trail to the store, your blonde hair and my laughter and the silent gulls up high. On the porch at sunset, we drink and the soundtrack is the jingle shell windchimes.

My head spins a little, does yours too? In the kitchen we're mixing it all up, the tomatoes and the parmesean, the water boils over.

While she stirs the sauce I look at myself in the bathroom, my hair a-tangled from the hike to the rapids and my cheeks a-rosy from the wine. A little for the sauce, a little for me.

I love you, I love this coast. All the time we talk about being alone we should be saying grace for having each other. Just beyond tomorrow we won't have time for this and the kids will tug us down from this high. It will be different, it will be wonderful, but it won't be you and me and the blankets and wine.