Peregian Beach, night, piKe.

Tonight was one of those nights that was so lovely that as i pressed my face up against Pike's and looked out at the stormy ocean, I held my breath and thought: what if it's never this good again? What if I reminisce about this night for the rest of my life?

The wind was roaring, the waves were crashing in from all directions always threatening us with spray, the night was lit only by the sky chunky with stars and we were standing there with my friend Hilary who had just arrived from Brisbane. I showed Pike the phosphoressence in the sand, we ran with Hilary's dog alongside the sand dunes and when I was far enough away so that no one could hear me, I sang to the ocean. We did interpretive dance and talked about our plans for when we returned to Toronto. Then we used our cell phones to light the way back through the grove of eucalyptus trees to the townhouse we're staying at in this sleepy little beach town.

I should know by now that it won't all end, that this won't be my last moment of perfect happiness but still, when it comes, I always worry. How could it possibly be any better than this?