Daytime Date

We used to mock date nights--now we barely go on them, unless Jonathan has an event vaguely related to work, or we have something related to school, or a friend invites us over. Months go by, and we barely have a chance to speak alone together uninterrupted that is not on the phone, by email, as one of us is falling asleep, or at the Y, when one child is in childcare.

So today we stole a morning. We went to Griffith Park and did our most favorite hike--up from the cave, to the top of the park, down to get a drink of water at Dante's view, a minute to appreciate the skyline of downtown L.A. glimmering like a magical city, under huge shafts of golden light, then down down down, towards the ocean and the city and real life again.

It is our grounding hike. We hiked there on dates, when we were engaged, when we were newlyweds, when I was pregnant, when I had one boy, and then when we had two. We have taken soccer balls, strollers, and backpacks over the ridge. We have hiked in when the park was shut down, snatched our children from coyotes at twilight, climbed over washed out sections and smelled the mustard grass in the spring. We cried when the hill burned, and now we are back. Regrowing, just like the hillside.

Afterwards we stopped at Trails and sat under the crows and twinkly lights and drank coffee and ate a ranger tart and some apple pie.

Hours of conversation without interruption. Ability to follow tangents to the end of all ends and then back. Walking briskly with no children to drag, carry or bribe.

Bliss.