Beginnings

 

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

Night surrounds us, the diner fire has died down and changes from ruby, yellow to amber, yet a beam is wandering straight to our wood and tin roof abode. My father, we call, Papa, probes: “Do you want to go visit La Lune?” “Yes,” we squeal, jumping in excitement. Mother takes the youngest back inside, and we turn to the open space between of the willow trees.

Slowly, Papa leans and pushes the saffron-color wood raw boat on the ledge, and we hop in from the stones of the homespun rock filled and boulder dock.

Tonight, is a midsummer nightfall, and a bursting large lemon colored globe has just risen on the other side of the mere and bay. The lake is glistening with a thousand shimmers, and a clear path is open to the moon like a thoroughfare.

“So, are we going to meet and fetch the moon?” Papa asks.

“Y-es,” “Y-es,” Babelle and I both comeback in unison our voice quivering with elation.

“Allons-y!” he rejoins.

Excerpt from an upcoming memoir by Nicolette Francey Asselin.

 

Illustrator: Natali Snailcat

 

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