I took Oakley for one of our rides this afternoon. We drove on the back roads beneath the sunshine, investing a couple of hours in nothing but the pure joy of being. The first grasses reached towards the sun like a baby reaching for a parent’s finger. A few temporary lakes caused by the rains earlier this week mirrored the cloudless sky, adding some notes of blue to the landscape.
We stopped at a forest preserve for a walk. Only two other walkers and a couple of fisher people went about their business; otherwise we had the place to ourselves. We walked the circular trail in compatible silence with me looking up at the new leaf buds and Oakley inspecting things closer to the ground.
The afternoon was warmer than expected. I forgot to bring water. I did have four quarters and some smaller change, however. With that, I treated myself to an iced tea and a cup of water for Oakley. His long slurps sprinkled droplets around the front seat and treated the people in the car next to mine to a laugh and one of his best smiles.
I smiled, too. The afternoon had been woven of small joys, of the moments that too frequently get discarded in the chaos of the world. I had the time, the gas, the working car, the dollar and change, and good weather.
I didn’t need anything else.