A quest for old maps took me to the dungeons of the UC Davis library today. ("Ancient maps show that Antarctica was not always covered with ice.") On the way, I passed a pick-up volleyball game in the grassy spot in the shadow of the engineering building. My husband works in a nearby building and I know he plays at this game frequently.
I spot him preparing to serve. I stop and watch him for a minute. He's tan and lean in the sunshine. He slams the ball into the far corner and gets a point from the serve. I smile. I watch him set up a spike for a teammate. Another point.
When the ball goes awry. I catch his eye and wave to him. He trots over, retrieving the ball and then meeting me with a kiss. He attempts to toss the ball back into the court while kissing me. It smacks into a tree and rains down red flowers.
A guy on the other side of the net says, "It must be spring."