The arched edge of the distant hurricane cleared by sunset, and we took comfort in our meal, prepared with local ingredients and consumed slowly beside the fire in the gathering dusk.
We prop our feet close to the flames, listen to them sighing like wind. Crickets sing all around us. The night quivers with sound.
Our plan was to have no plans, are we are sticking to it. We ate when we were hungry. We will sleep when we are sleepy.
When we cap the fire at last, it's light extinguished, the night expands, and we see deep into the galaxy, Sagittarius there in the south.
Nothing need be said.
copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved
