In Search of Lost Time

Sweater: Zara (similar); Top: Land's End; Bottoms: J. Crew Factory; Shades: Ray Ban

There is a moment just before the plane touches down where everything is perfect.  Vacation is just beginning and time feels endless, so open to possibility.  That moment arises again with the first feeling of sand underneath feet and the sound of waves lapping shore.  Even the first sunset, signifying the end of that first day, still captures that moment.

Last month, DT and I headed down to Ft. Lauderdale for our first just-us, no-reason vacation in two years.  We had no obligations and no agenda other than relaxation.  We had lazy, slow mornings with breakfast in bed.  Eventually, we'd wander down to the pool or over to the beach for the afternoon.  There were tiki bar drinks or Coronas on our balcony before heading out to dinner somewhere, usually outside, always delicious.  

Time wasn't just spent, it was savored.  Nothing was rushed.  We people-watched while we sunbathed.  I read three or four books.  We ate when we were hungry and went to bed when we were tired.  Not having a scheduled allowed us to make our own.  I think about those quiet mornings in a hotel bed, sunlight streaming in through the sliding door.  The whole day was ours to do nothing with.  And nothing was perfect.