Last night people gathered at a beautiful hilltop winery in Stonington for music and wine. By the time we got there just after 7, the raggedy trio of musicians was already filling the big sky with jouncey roots music. We found a grassy spot beside a bed of lavender.
"It's just like the Reunion, except people aren't related," said Nico as he plunked himself down onto one of Esperanza's quilts. By the time Monica and I had bought and uncorked a bottle of the zinfandel, our friends Sharka and Yuri had shown up with their boys and Porter in tow.
The four boys quickly raced off through the alleys of grapevine toward the stonewalls where the trees drop an ordnance of little green apples. The four adults were dismissed to their wine and their conversation.
As humans big and small danced in the grass before the players, orange and blue sky gave way to indigo ink and an alabaster half-moon a-nest in the stars. The boys were happily lost in the gloaming.