3 Bottles of Wine

Three bottles of wine later, with the red on the ivory linen and the laughter spilled out into the street, I found myself alone in the kitchen. And a kind of hush fell into the room. The peace that comes from an evening well spent.

How odd it seems that these are rare gems. Shouldn't they be the norm and not the exception? As I cleaned the dishes and scrubbed the linen, I could not help but feel just a little wistful.

The rain had come down hard. Pelting in sheets. But not before the salmon and asparagus had come off the grill. In fact, we had just trayed them for the table when the storm broke. And it cleared as dessert was served. Just enough to water the new plantings, and not enough to drown them.

And perhaps that is why these types of evenings are sprinkled about in our lives and not shoveled into each day. Just enough to keep the plants healthly, but not enough to drown out the bloom.

Not sure, but I do know - it was a full and richly textured evening. I indeed am blessed.