She giggled, watching it play. The gray squirrel ran along the ground – hopping, really – so full of energy you would think it was reveling in the sunshine as much as they were. Only moments before the skies had been bursting with water. Then it was just gray. Now, it was delightfully sun-fillled.
A blessed answer to prayer, really; the squirrel was rejoicing and they were giggling.
Then a new distraction.
The geese. Or swans. Or whatever you want to call the white creatures with black beaks. Whatever they are called, they were everywhere. Almost literally. And where they weren’t, they used to be.
But that didn’t really matter. Not really. Not fully.
The threatening rain didn’t matter.
The playful squirrel didn’t matter.
The muggy sunshine didn’t matter.
The annoying geese/swan/ducks didn’t matter.
No, none of that.
She looked at him, and smiled.
He looked at her, glad.
And they looked at me and laughed.
They’re getting married and we were there to celebrate.