Today, walking home from the library, I saw a young man walking with a young woman. She was a plain woman, but stylishly dressed, as if she had a professional job. He was wearing dickies work pants and a gray tee-shirt with black greasy smudges on it. His hair was dark and curly.
I watched them walking together, talking together. They did not touch, or hold hands, but they never stopped talking.
There's a large rental house, and when they got to it, they turned up the sidewalk. He stopped at the steps, and she continued on. He looked after her until she went inside, shutting the door behind her. He turned, and fell gracelessly to the steps, apparently waiting for her to come back out. I smiled at the big goofy grin on his bearded face. He looked at me, startled. He had been so caught up in their little world, he never even realized that I was walking behind them.
Sometimes when you've been married for a long time, it is a refreshing gift to be reminded of your own first days together ~ that gentle awkwardness of two people who are just beginning to learn that they are compatible, a nostalgic glimpse of what it was like before you became so comfortable with each other, before you knew each other so well that words become unneccessary.