Yesterday Delycia and I were married quietly in our home on Burrows Street. A Justice of the Peace named Luanne, looking both earnest in her duties and joyous for us, stood in our living room and said the brief words that made us man and wife. We then walked outside to Delycia's flower garden, where Luanne took several pictures of us, with my new wife's flowers in the background. We then drove down to Old Lyme, where we lunched on the veranda of the Florence Griswold Art Museum overlooking the easygoing Lieutenant River. We must have looked like a strangely bemused but bouyant couple as we ate. We were enjoying the food and the pristine scene, but we were also off on some far-away cloud in our new life, trying to understand the mystery of what had happened that morning. We were sitting, but also floating.
Later, we took a picnic supper to the beach at Stonington Point. The evening was still and restful, and we leaned back and loved both our sandwiches and our brand new lives.