Our serenade

Some time around sunset today Todos Santos slid quietly – almost imperceptibly – from ideal to surreal. Celia and I had walked up to the church to watch the sun set over the Pacific. While we took in the slow transition from yellow to orange and finally pink light, we each sketched. I drew the Church’s distinctive bell tower while Celia captured the vista. Not one, but two, people came by to watch us sketch. I felt infinitely silly since I was drawing with fat roll-up crayons. Yet, I had to admit, my sketch wasn’t half bad and Celia has the obvious handicap of being five.

When the sun finally sunk into the trees atop the ridge between us and the ocean, we packed up our Crayolas just as a group came out of the Church. Most went directly into waiting cars or walked off toward home but four men remained on the church steps. Quietly at first I heard the tuning of a guitar and then they began, in perfect harmony to sing the sound track of our evening. Celia curled up in my lap and we sat in the fading twilight listening to our private serenade. Romance hung thick in the jasmine-scented air and in that moment I feel even more in love with my daughter.