It was Monday night a week ago at The Crab Trap in Pensacola. Our good friends Roy and Bette were in town for the week. We were seated at a table so near the water our feet were almost wet. Perfect.
We watched mullet jump, birds fish, and shrimp boats head out for the night. We shared crab cakes and a glass of wine, talking softly as old friends do. The night-cooled breeze smoothed feathers and lulled hearts. Our breathing slowed, deepened, forerunner of a good night’s sleep and memories for the road.