Sobering Moments on a Small Adventure

   After a long, lazy morning I finally decided that it was about time to head outdoors around 2pm. I had been watching the sun appear gloriously through my windows, only to be hidden again by rain clouds, several times this morning. When I first decided to go on a hike, I was stopped by the sound of hail on my skylights. So I determined that it would be wise to stay close to the apartment when the sun came out to play again. 
   I grabbed everything I might need quickly, as soon as the hail stopped. My gear included: gloves, an umbrella, a water bottle, a towel, my camera (of course), and The Hunger Games. Nothing extreme, just enough to aid me in finding a nice spot to perch in. I figured that I would be visited by the rain again, so I set out as soon as I could.
   I only made it as far as the train station across the street. I remembered seeing some corners near the platform that would be great to hide in. However, some local punks had already beaten me to each of the spots I had in mind. So, against my better judgment, I walked the path of the tracks and climbed onto an abandoned train. I found a nice spot on the back from which I could dangle my feet. It was covered, so I figured that it would do. 
   I spent the next two hours in utter bliss. I was delighted to read my book in private. Facing the hills and the old monument, I felt that I had the best spot in town. Every once and a while, I took a break from my book to watch the way the sun lit up the hills. Seeing the Black Forest that way was quite enjoyable. It was more beautiful than a painting. Yet, I think I felt this way because I was alone and I believed that moment to be for my own benefit. 
   I once read a journal entry that Laura had written in which she claimed the sunset to be a thing of beauty and an act of love, from God, particularly for her that evening.  At first glance, I felt that this was an arrogant reflection. Several years after her passing, I have found myself thinking similar thoughts. Tonight the sunset was for me. 
   I needed that moment. I spent the morning missing Laura. Unashamedly, I admit that I have listened to our Tailors Trail cd repeatedly every night, before bed, this past week. Last night I fell asleep to our last concert. The video brings me comfort, but it also brings me back to the sobering reality that this is not my home. 

Until I do see Laura again, I hope to absorb as many beautiful moments, such as these, as I can.