It was tranquil sitting on the bench recently along the Columbia River waterfront. The weather that afternoon was sunny with light breezes and not a cloud in the sky. Only an occasional ripple on the water with a stray fish that jumped every now and then. The West Hills of Portland were bright and green. The air was fresh for a perfect day.
The woman on the other end of the bench said, “Do you come here often?” I replied, “Yes, I like to sit along the river and watch the weather.” She said, “Well, not much weather to watch is there?” I turned my head, smiled and muttered that at least I wouldn’t get wet today. She lowered her brow, and I could see her brown eyes peering above her sunglasses as her dimples appeared ever so softly.
I thought to myself that the sky is full of weather as weather is whatever it is doing outside at any given moment in time. “It’s peaceful,” I offered.
With her eyes on the water she asked, “What will the weather be like this weekend?” I slouched down a bit on the bench keeping my eyes on the river and replied, “Not as nice as today. More clouds, maybe light drizzle here and there, some clearing later in the day. Just enough of a change to remember today here on the bench.”
