Soaring

We were heading back from Marathon today -- we'd gone up to get a patio table -- and we were in the middle of the big arch on the Seven-Mile bridge. Ella was singing Cole Porter on the CD, the sun was doing its thing and the birds were having fun in the 84-degree breeze (as they did in this picture from Higgs Beach on Wednesday).

I turned to Robert and said, "I'm the luckiest person I know."