The rainbow cleared the surface of the water to get a glimpse of the full moon. It was his job to report back to the others. “Yep, it’s full. They can’t catch us for at least another 24 hours!”
The ripples set off by the splash broke the seamless reflection of the sailboat. Without a breeze, the ripples smoothed quickly and returned the cove to a dark mirror spotted by boat lights and star haze.
Up until then, we’d been wondering if that sailboat had two masts. We couldn’t tell where the boat ended and the reflection began.
In our shorts, sweatshirts and Keens, we stood arm-in-arm, gazing at the moon hiding on the other side of the trees. Their leaves were still clinging to green. Even though it was September 11th, they weren’t ready to change into yellow, orange and brown.
When I asked what thoughts came to their minds when standing there bathed in moonlight, they both uttered something about being thankful.
Thankful for fish caught.
Thankful for new friends made.
Thankful for trees to climb with new and old friends.
Thankful for grandparents fun enough to camp with.
Thankful for the opportunity to enjoy a warm summer night when others had to go to bed early on a school night.
Thankful for the opportunity to appreciate our simple lives when others have lost so much.
Thankful for closeness and comfort and not so much stress.
Thankful for coffee in the morning, jeans to ward off the chill, warm chocolate milk and the opportunity to catch more fish.
We pointed out the constellations that tried to stand out against the bright light of the moon. We knew some of the names and made up the others.
As we turned to walk back and tuck in for the night, we acknowledged the date. For a brief moment we felt awkward in our gratitude.
Was it enough to be thankful?
Should we do more?
And then we heard the splash. The rainbow cleared the surface again. We turned in time to see the ripples sending a code that said, “Come back tomorrow. Catch me if you can.”