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."