Long Point

We try to get back at least once a year.

This is Long Point State Park on Cayuga Lake. It's a scenic spit of land jutting out into the water, planted with hickories and willows and basswoods, and covered in smooth gray-blue stones. It is a good spot for many things: swimming, boating, beachcombing. One calm, sunny day in February four and a half years ago, we drove up there for the first time together, for our second date. We walked, we talked. We skipped rocks and beachcombed. I think it's where we began, where we found and started following the good path we're travelling.

I have a handful of beach gleanings from that date: a piece of polished purple beach glass, an old metal coat button, a few lucky stones. Somewhere, I'm sure Patrick does, too.

Every relationship has its origin. This is ours: these blue-gray stones, these quiet smiles and scraps of conversation. This is where I started getting to know this guy, and where I started falling in love. It's been a long, gleeful slope, this love-falling business. Every day, a little further along.