Years ago in the spring I went walking at dusk in Boston; the gray sky behind tall buildings bore hints of yellow and pink that seemed suggestive –

A full life that can somehow never be full enough looks to the sky for signs of what’s to come, visions and impressions;  such feelings and thoughts are the currency of such a person … especially one who deals in the logical, rational world of computer science all day long.

That night I had a date with a Frenchman.   It was April.  Snow had become rain, the streets of downtown Boston seemed promising.

All optimism, I gave myself to the evening.

The Silvertone was alive with a million after-work revelers.  The air was dark and surprisingly cool for a basement; the air conditioning infusing fresh air over a crowd of too-close professionals, the bartender in endless motion; the room full of couples doing what couples do – coupling tentatively, determinedly, desirously, Individually.

As every good reveler knows, the party eventually ends.  At least until the next one can begin …  and in the morning after, who you find yourself with can be telling.

Twelve years later there is a house.  And there are children.  And there have been beautiful trips, small moments, shared love, pain and sorrow.  We have given what we have to each other, to our children, and yet, the skies have become Autumn skies …

Beautiful as winter sets in.

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