Talking over the Fence 

 

I sometimes think about going to visit friends I haven’t seen for a long time but I stop.  The thought they are probably busy with other friends and family keeps me from calling.  I don’t want to take up their time.  I was wrong.

After connecting with friends, we had a date.  A lovely drive on a Sunday morning to reach their home in the county.  We were greeted by them and two dogs. We strolled in the yard where the summer splendor had been spent leaving a few buds and blooms about. It was a lovely fall day. We talked and stood enjoying the sun on our backs.  There was no reason to do more.

We had been told to bring our coffee cups for coffee. One of our friends said he thought we would be bringing larger mugs.  We had bought small cups.  No matter, he said and off he went with cups in hand to make lattes. When he returned, we sat beneath a large umbrella to keep what morning sun there was from our eyes so we could gaze at the faces of friends not seen since the beginning of shut down from the virus.  As I told them how much the visit meant to me, tears formed in my eyes.  I was surprised to the depth of my emotions.  I thought I had been handling the isolation quite well but then I had been working locked in an office occasionally seeing co-workers masked while passing in the hallways.  I had only been partially secluded.

I missed seeing, touching, and listening to others.  I am fortunate. I have the man, my husband to keep me company.  He is a wonderful companion and friend but I realized the glory of other bare faces looking at me, and different voices in the air on this Sunday morning. It was as if discovering the beauty of dew or rain drops upon the upturned heads of flowers.  Beautiful, sacred, and a miracle.  It was no wonder there were tears of emotions gathering in my eyes.  Contentment filled me.

As our conversations grew with the help of lattes and then the introduction of a lavender sponge cake, it occurred to me.  This type of moment needed no encouragement, no planning.  I hung on every word, every gesture, and the very whisper of a breeze. I was present.

We were treated to a lunch outside in the air.  It was delicious.  I licked my fingers clean.  As I look back on the day in the country, I have hopes for another such day.  It will happen but the apples on the trees will be gone.  Made into pies, applesauce.  I am still enjoying mine picked on a sunny Sunday day with friends who I hope are not waiting for my call. I will no longer think I am intruding on their peace, time with other friends and family.  They have all the time in the world and part of it is for me.