As we are a beer loving couple, my husband and I usually spend Friday or Saturday nights at our balcony drinking, enjoying the breeze and the abundant sky in the south. Sometimes our nights will be honored by the presence of stars and a glorious full moon, as was the case last night.
Outside my window during the day, I can sometimes catch a small glimpse of Laguna Bay from yonder and if I go up our attic, its calmness unfolds with a better view. Or I content myself at the sight of lush trees that cover an empty lot just outside our house.
Then there is of course the most wondrous sight of all, of my eldest buried yet again in her book and my youngest doing crazy things, as usual. And I am relegated to an observer of human nature, of their individuality shaping more solidly as the days pass by.
The world owns me from Monday to Friday. But weekends are mine, all mine.