the dinner party
The rain had ceased and the sun warmed the air, drying the earth just enough to keep us out of doors all day. We ate greens drenched in balsamic with strawberries; pork cooked in a bed of onions, caramelized till they were soft; pesto couscous with shrimp, feta and fresh herbs; green beans, blanched and tossed with toasted almonds; peach cake layered with mascarpone cheese and brandy for dessert.
As we sat, the light, shining through shadow and dusk over the width of the table, was truly sweet.
Yet it was after the sun had set, when the candlelight melded with the glow of the strung bulbs, that the light was sweetest.
We laughed and talked the way old friends do, letting the pulse of something bigger move us.
Celebrating nothing except life itself.