A perfectly splendid sun rose up to create a wonderful picnic on a careless afternoon for my dear old friend and her son, visiting from Norway. I had only seen her once or twice in the last thirty years since we were in high school together and had never met her charming, buoyant boy, who is soon looking to hit the ripe old age of thirteen. We sat at an appropriately picnicky red-and-white checkered table on the Sun Deck of my building under a cloudless sky, with impish breezes at times attempting to whisk our paper plates away. Our merry trio unpacked our basket as well as a lot of memories, even as we were creating new ones. Bellinis with chilled Spanish cava and peach juice filled our flutes and were readily poured (the young man only had the peach juice and bottled water, of course). I set out "everything" spelt bagels on a platter of slivered yellow onions, thick slices of screamingly ripe red summer tomatoes, Irish smoked salmon, herring in sauce, and creamy French Neufchatel cheese to slather over the whole lot. Popsicles (pulled from a cooler) and brownie minis (allowed to bake in the sun) were a treat to finish while we discussed the ages...
I fell in love with my dear friend, was it 1983? 1984...? How the time passes since the moment I met her those years ago. I cherish it all; yes, friendship, memories, and the years spreading across the distance.
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