On a stunning spring evening, the sun is still shining out of an impossibly blue sky, the leaves are rustling in a light breeze that doesn't quite yet carry the warmth of the season, and everything that was once bare and broken from winter's wrath is coming back to life.
Drawn to the outside, needing to be a part of it all, she slips on her new sunglasses and walks out onto the the deck that was built by her man. The deck where they spend their spring and summer moments, talking about their life and their love, and where they whisper their hopes and their dreams, their wishes and their fears.
She settles into a lounge chair, romance novel and drink within arms reach, but she neither reads her book nor drinks her drink. Instead she lays back and thinks her thoughts for her thoughts are many and messy, the way that thoughts sometimes are.
As the breeze flutters her hair and she enjoys the view of the home that she and her man are making together she smiles. And in that moment, she is grateful.