This time last year, we would hurriedly toss our picnic basket and quilt in the car as the welcome warmth streamed hot and heavy through cloudy cotton wisps.
Our lazy afternoons spent in a rhythmic dance alternating between sun and shade.
This time last year, we were also anxiously wondering what life would look like as the Fall arrival inched nearer and my stomach grew larger.
While we filled ourselves with chunks of sweet watermelon, the undeniably bitter taste of imminent change wouldn't wash away.
one. two. three.
How can you be ready for three, when you're still figuring out two. heck. you're still figuring out one. number one. yourself. 'cause let's be honest, the world revolving around you, that still exists. darn.
Somehow, we did it.
We're here. together.
And the world is different because of it.
Picnics... those are different too.