I remember standing atop Sugarloaf on that October afternoon, as my oldest friends formalized the relationship that we (at least) all knew was forever and had been for years.
The air was brisk and the wind was up, ripe with leaves and moist. The sky was no idle blue, but alive with racing clouds of grey and white. It was chilly, but we didn’t mind, standing in our foolish unfamiliar formal clothing. It was a rite, in the truest sense, and we were there as witnesses of it. It had to be.
How young we were, a score of years ago. How young, and brave, and hopeful. Fierce, and happy, like a colony of eagles atop that granite cliff. Our faces glad and bright, we heard only part of the words spoken, but all of the feeling expressed.
Time has passed, and distance still. Yet looking back from these far lowlands where I stand today, gazing back to that mountaintop in Maryland, I can still see those friends of my youth, standing proud and joyous and promising themselves to each other.
L&J, it has been too short. Here’s to you, on your anniversary. Twenty more is not enough.

One thought on “Memory

  1. OR Old friend, I do believe your eloquence hath brought a tear to my dear wifes eye. Indeed she hath taken away mine own tissue. Very beautiful. Many thanks from Muninn and his better half. A treasure!

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