Going Home

Liquid fire melting on blue water, I watch the sun give way to the stillness that is twilight. My daughter rubs her hands over her arms, warming the goosebumps that prickle her skin and asks impatiently if we can leave yet. She is oblivious to the moment. The moment when sky and water merge and the horizon seems to span forever as if there were no end.

And we are not alone. Along the path where the lamp lights have suddenly warmed into glowing embers of amber, families walk with the slow gait of a Saturday evening. Another couple enjoys a quiet dinner for two at a picnic table just down the way, while my best friend and her daughter stand to our side and take in the sunset in their own way.

It is a miracle I tell her. The way the sun rises every morning and sets in the evening. Or as her daughter says, goes home. And for a moment I remember the word home, the very weight of the word and the image it invokes, of much younger times and the way I would peddle my bike down to the lake just before sunset and ride to the abandoned edge of the park where the benches were always empty and awaiting my arrival. I used to lean my bike against the rail and sit there watching the water lap against the shore, listening to the seagulls overhead while the moon waited in her corner and the sun sank down in his; a gentle peace between heavenly bodies forever entwined in the essence of give and take.

Just like before, those many moons ago, I felt the calm take hold my heart, stilling the worries from my mind, nourishing my spirit, restoring my strength. It's very easy to laugh and cry at the same time. This is what I told Brenda as we watched our daughters gingerly explore a cold white mound of ice and snow left over from winter like a melting glacier. How something so simple as a sunset can move you in ways you do not understand but set to rights the things you thought were going wrong. It can be that simple.

A part of me didn't want to leave. I could have stood there forever with the cold breeze against my face, watching the wings of darkness spread their arms over the land like a slow moving bird, wanting to root myself in that moment. Instead I looked to my daughter, took her small hand in mine and smiled, "Let's go home."

sleep my friend now
I'll watch o'er you
the moon is here and the stars adore you
close your eyes and
you'll sleep just fine
said my guardian angel once upon a time ...

* Thank you to Karl who seems to know when to send me the exact song I need to hear.