Shakes and Circle Lights
October 5, 2010 § 8 Comments
I fell in love again, this weekend.
We were sitting at an outside table sticky with whipped cream and fry sauce, sharing pie shakes, looking at circle lights against a night sky, sipping and sipping until our tummies almost burst, hearing a banjo and an acoustic guitar and a girl’s lonely voice singing American folk songs and hymns from a rooftop behind us.
I fell in love with whipped cream so light I thought it might float into a cloud; with circle lantern lights strung across a balcony, the circle lights my Scandinavian grandmother hangs from her ceilings; with America and faith and being good even when you’re alone, like the girl singing about her God. I fell in love, again, with an October rain sky, sweet with smells of wet leaves and straw grass and cinnamon; with the boy who sat beside me, his eyes popping as he sipped banana cream pie through a straw!–the boy I met in a Fall similar to this one, four years ago, who taught me how to fall in love over and over and over and over again.