Good Morning Columbia

The light is a dark grey and blue hue now, but the salmon fisherman are in their boats, anticipating the catch of the day.  The Columbia River is as pristine and calm as ever. As we motor past them on our large boat, my lazy elbows catch the window sill to try and grasp the view in my mind forever. In the quiet of the morning, the smell of the coffee and the hum of the engine are the only things in my mind.

Some guests begin to saunter into the lounge.  I straighten my uniform up and smile a genuine, but tired smile.  I used to despise mornings.  But the moments before the sun rise are my favorite as of late. 

After I check on the coffee, I prepare some for myself and overhear a conversation just a few feet away.  The two ladies talking were complete strangers before, turned friends after just a few days aboard. Giggling loudly, then crying, they both speak of their recent trials with cancer. Holding hands, they begin to laugh aloud after what I assumed to be an inside joke.  Just then, I move toward the window to see the first sign of Mount Hood in the distance, snow capped and grand, demanding to be seen.  

The ladies move in next to me by the window. All of us, holding our coffee mugs, mouths widened by the view before us.  One of them looks in my direction and puts her arm around me. She says, "Oh honey, I bet you never tire of this view."  

And she is right. This moment was not so fleeting and it felt so wonderfully shared that made me  so connected in an otherwise jumbled, busy life.

Moments like these should have soundtracks. This one would be a happy one. Columbia River+Coffee+Sunrise=Memories