We strolled leisurely down the garden path, my small, slender hand clasped in his. We talked of many things: of recent events in our lives, of whether tea or coffee was better, and of our dreams and aspirations.
Then turning a corner, we found the end of the path, and with it, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Apple trees, having just put out their pink blossoms, stood proudly, their branches nodding in the gentle breeze. The sun, which was just beginning to set, illuminated every leaf and flower with its golden rays. The sky was a canvas of the brightest hues of yellow and pink.
“What a beautiful view!” I breathed, stricken with awe. We stood there for a few minutes, breathing in the fragrant air, standing still; so very still that we could hear the whisper of the wind amongst the trees.
I turned to him. His countenance, like mine, was full of wonder, and bore a ruddy glow. I watched him for a few seconds, as he took everything in, lost in the beauty of the moment. Then his eyes met mine.
“Let’s run,” he said, with a boyish grin.
I smiled and shrugged. “Okay.”
He held out his hand. I took it, and off we ran together, through the blossoming trees and into the sunset.