Tue 10 Jul 2012
Wait on a bench outside to watch him motor up your drive for the first time. After he arrives, take him for a walk through the dusk to the beach filling up with stars and a few families shooting off the last of the weekends fireworks and sparklers. Come home to tea and talk that goes on late into the night. Forget your cups until the morning.
Take him on your favorite hike up the coast, from the creek through redwoods and out into the sunny blue views north and south. Feed him the first early huckleberry you see. Promise to bring him back in the fall when they are ripe.
Let him find you a frog.
Notice the magic of the afternoon light as it comes in sideways through the forest, each slanting glance slowing your steps and breath down to a whisper. Duck out to an overlook to avoid chatty hikers coming up from the rear. Join his perch on a rock over the coastal terraces, listening to the ocean far below and the sweet, lazy breeze dance through the fir trees up the slope. Watch him taking all this in just as it is.
Drive homeward past red tails perch-hunting on power poles while the fog shadows chasing you south paint contrasting lines on the landscape. Stop at the Roadhouse for a beer, a beet salad and scallops in a corn basil sauce. Talk face to face across the table, unexpectedly shy after the day’s side by side conversation. Let him hold your hand and smile, not looking away, as you say that. Let the exquisite night, and all that follows, unfold from there.