Ron turned a year older yesterday. We found some time in the early evening to have dinner at his favourite Japanese restaurant in Mayfair. The moon was bright, stuck between the cracks of brick homes. It looked suspended in a mix of indigo and admiral blue, way, way up there. 


We ate shabu shabu and drank sake, then drove home with the radio off and I stayed awake until dawn because of the heat. Ron left to NY this morning and I was still awake listening to the birds chirp, thinking randomly about the beginning of spring and the day we walked through canola fields and had drinks under yellow trees in our winter coats.