THE PERFECT DAY

Every now and then I spend a day that turns out perfect and burns in my memory for a long time. For the Little Woman’s birthday we celebrated at a popular restaurant for brunch. The restaurant sits along the harbor side of Port Jefferson, amid many different sized yachts and boats of all types and lengths.

The day itself was somewhat perfect, mostly sunny and only slightly humid. There were: Sunday strollers and casual shoppers and curios lookers casually dressed who strolled the streets and docks of the Port, looking into store windows and yachts that lined their way, licking ice cream cones and treats from the local vendors.

There was no hurry, only the enjoyment of freedom and curiosity as we peeked into the million dollar play boats, some tied to posts, some sitting out in the middle of the harbor. Our brunch was at a perfect spot in the restaurant, next to a window that overlooked the dock and the ferries that docked and unloaded their passengers and cars before loading new people and cars for the trip back to Connecticut.

The Little Woman and I strolled after our meal around the area hand and hand, It was like the old days, before children, before all the bills, before all the concerns that occupy our modern world. We stepped into and out of shops without the intent of buying, but if something caught our eye, we wouldn’t hesitate. We smelled the confectionary concoctions, the garlic and the musty odors of shops, and restaurants, that lent to the overall atmosphere; we talked about little things and shared the latest gossip we heard. There were no high standards in our chats on this day.

Everyone should take a day like this, and share it with someone special, I think it means we stopped to smell the roses.