Tsuisiat Falls, West Coast Trail – That night, Maria and I wander south on the beach. A nearly full moon silvers the whole horizon – the blues and greys and blacks shot only by a lone campfire blaze. We scrunch on a surf log and listen to the wild Pacific.
We have been friends 15 years now. My college roommate was pregnant at my wedding. A decade later, her child baked me a ginormous birthday brownie, whose candles set fire to the restaurant's tablecloth. Everyone shouted "opa" – the party being at the Conty – and dumped their waterglasses on the table.
Few friendships soldier through so many eras. Hell, I just cussed her partner out an hour ago, but here we are.
"If I had my proper SLR camera, maybe I could capture some of this," I sigh.
"No," she counters. "Some things you just need to show up for."
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