Sam invited us to a private sunrise service this morning, here on the point, a call to all: bring your breakfast out to the gazebo and I'll blow your little ignorant minds and that he did, but not with his words, which quickly fell away in favor of silent awe at the beautiful yellow and pink sky that burned across the horizon and brought Jesus to our souls in case we forgot the way.
I sat on one of the big floor cushions holding my hot cup of coffee, other hand balancing the plate on my lap. English muffin with raspberry jam and a few chunks of pineapple on the side. Nothing makes food taste better than watching the sun rise while eating it. Not even a sunset (somewhat sad and not hopeful, more like time's up) holds a candle to this.
I tried to christen the space the Jesubo but they wouldn't let me.
That's...not a portmanteau.
Laaaaaame, Bridge.
Yeah, just no.
You didn't just-
Pfft. I go back to sipping the remainder of my coffee. Lochlan pushes against my leg with his knee and laughs easily. I wink at him and smile back and Sam wraps up his mini-service for the heathens without a single bear pun or joke or serious offside meeting about how we can actually keep the bears out (DUH just don't let me forget to bring the feeders in. The magpies were screaming. I had to feed them.)
Amen, we all repeat and begin to gather our dishes, standing up. The rain has turned from spitting to a deluge of icy needles and we run up the path and up the steps, into the house and funnel into the kitchen to clean up our dishes. PJ takes mine and winks. It's his day for kitchen duty and so I escape out the other end of the space and head back outside to watch the rain. I am lifted off my feet and turned around before I make it out the door, however and am planted back in the great room.
Help me make a fire?
I stare at Lochlan. One cup of coffee doesn't wrinkle my brain all that much, unfortunately. Is that a euphemism?
Lochlan bursts out laughing. I mean, it can be? But I still have to get a fire going. It's hovering around freezing.
Oh, okay, sure.
Then we can...you know, make a fire..if you want. He stares at me. Damn. I burst into flames and suddenly it's too hot to think about.
Jesus wouldn't approve.
Sure he would.
Not the way we do things, Locket.
Then we should have a righteous fuck instead.
Shhhhhh. We look around, laughing. Wait. I'm totally game.
Then get the kindling so we can get this show on the road. We pause, staring at each other. There's an old well-used phrase. I jump up.
On it.
He's following me up the stairs not even a minute later.
Pretty sure I just vaporized my skin trying to light that fire so fast.
You'll heal in no time.
You're right.