An Autumn Sunset at Richmond Beach
The other day was my anniversary—seven years of marriage with a wonderful man I’m a thousand-times’ blessed to call my husband. It’s a crazy–albeit good–time in our lives right now, with him working and getting his MBA, along with navigating this new world of parenthood. Another aspect is how we spent our anniversary. While in past years we would mark the occasion at some special place, this time he went back to school.
We celebrated early, both with a night out as a couple and with an autumn picnic as a family of three. When you have a schedule like ours, you work hard to ensure quality time together. You know that if you don’t carve out time and mark it on the calendar, you’ll overcommit. Or worse yet, you’ll set out into the day aimlessly and fret over wasted time. You’ll find yourself on a weekend afternoon rushing to get out the door to an event you aren’t so sure you even want to attend, or before you know it you’ll look at the clock and it will be noon and you’ll still be in your bathrobe with nothing to show for the day except for fewer dirty dishes in the sink.
With an overloaded academic quarter beginning this week, we saved this past Sunday afternoon for ourselves and set out for a picnic at Richmond Beach Park in Shoreline, just north of the Seattle city line.
The wildfires in Wenatchee lent an opaque pastel quality to the early autumn sky. As the sun descended over the Olympic Mountains, everything was lit with a grayish-rosy glow. This was the magical golden light that photographers talk about—only softer, diffused.
Aside from the occasional clanging of the trains as they passed by, the scene was nothing but peaceful. Couples walked along the shore, a group of teenagers tromped by, one of them holding a bouquet of red roses, and mothers watched as their children played. It was peaceful and subdued, maybe due to the time of day, or perhaps as a result of the changing seasons.
We packed up our picnic and walked to the bridge leading to the parking lot as a train made its way north from Golden Gardens and Carkeek Park over to Richmond Beach. As we stood on the bridge, right over the tracks, waiting for the train, the other visitors slowly joined us. As the sun set and twilight approached, signaling that the park would be closing soon, we migrated to the tracks and stood together for a few minutes, watching as the train whooshed under us and soon disappeared around the next bend.
Life, as busy as it has seemed this summer, just got even more so with the start of fall. But there are always lovely moments like these, when we can stop whatever we’re doing—whatever project, job, or busywork—and just take in our surroundings. We just have to stop and embrace them.Add a comment