We went to the symphony on our first date and then somewhere for a bite to eat. I ordered a shrimp salad. A bit extravagant, probably, but I thought he was rich. His parents drove a Mercedes, after all, even though they were farm folk.
I remember how he encircled my right hand with his left and drew it close to his shoulder while his right arm embraced me, hand pressed against the small of my back.
How at the end of each dance, he squeezed me closer, just for a second, but I thought I would melt for the warmth of it.
We took some ballroom lessons later on, but we moved stiff. He was a weak leader, and I struggled to follow. We tripped up often. I liked how the instructor swung me around with authority. But we didn’t like having to change partners. Why do they do that?
Our dancing shoes hide somewhere in the recesses of his closet, I think.
I’ve been trying to dance with Julia. She’s been leading, but I haven’t been following very well, in spite of good intentions. Maybe because we’ve been trying to samba when I need to waltz. Anyway, I’ve stepped on her feet some, made some creative U-turns. Turned up the static. Discovered my procrastination may be a form of fear.
But today I got distracted by twittering outside the window. An event that demanded the camera while a dance played out on the bird feeder post.
What must have been a young (house?) finch perched on the post, just inches away from black oil. It fluttered back and forth until I’m guessing mom (or was it dad?) came to deliver lunch.
Mouth to mouth.
I forgot about Julia and just enjoyed the the play before me.
And somehow I think she would have approved.
Writing for five minutes with Lisa-Jo on the prompt dance.
And with Michelle in her new Graceful Summer community.
Love the pictures. My husband and I love to watch and photograph the birds as well. We have a blue bird family right now that we watch every evening from the swing, mom and dad bringing worms to their babies.
As far as dancing goes, only in my mind and if I dared to openly dance, the blinds would have to be pulled! 😉 I would LOVE to have just one ballroom dress though 🙂
I keep meaning to get a bluebird house up, but I never seem to get to it. In my mind’s eye, I see us dancing–smoothly, effortlessly. Maybe we’ll try again someday. So nice to have you come by, Kristin.
What awesome pictures. And that really shows a dance, doesn’t it?
Read a little from the link on Julia – and I think you did exactly what she is saying – live life – enjoy it. You did.
Now can you paint that? Or dance that? Or even write more about it?
Blessings
Jan
Several of us have been reading through Julia’s book together over at Tweetspeak Poetry, but in warp speed. I’m meaning to start over and move slowly. And interestingly, I was looking at paints today. 🙂
Cool pictures, did you take them? By the way this was a great read it took me away from for awhile. I got caught up in your dance.
I did, Leah. Right through our living room window. 🙂
When you didn’t feel like dancing, you got to watch what dancing looks like through your lens. Love that you and your husband dance, we haven’t done much of it but after reading posts today I am inspired.
🙂 🙂
This is lovely, Sandra…and what a wonderful series of photos. xox
I am certain she would..for you stopped dancing to delight in the music.