Remembering without photos

I wish to remember how my husband and I stood with our umbrellas under a large elm during a downpour. The five sheep on the meadow next to the path continued gazing grass completely ignoring the rain and us. We had driven more than an hour to a small town in the centre of Estonia, walked down one seemingly endless street, turned right to a super short street, strolled along empty beach of a lake and we still had a hill to climb to reach the ruins of a castle. Lucky us that we had had the sense to grab the umbrellas with us when we saw the far away clouds. We should have put on warmer clothes but we were stubborn and didn't want to wear jackets on a summer day. The wind moved the clouds faster than we anticipated and once the rain started we struggled with walking agains the wind and trying to avoid puddles. Our toes were wet and we shivered a bit. The news on the car radio had informed us that the water in the lake was warmer than the air around us. We chuckled that we should have gone to the water to feel warm. We were together, the tree protected us form getting fully soaked, and the wind blue the clouds fast enough to show a sliver of blue sky and sunshine. We smiled.

For the past three days my husband and I have started a day with "Where shall we go today?" and sat into a car and headed to different destinations, some close to home and some far away, all within a distance to return home in the evening. I could have taken plenty of photos of beautiful nature sceneries, cute streets views with low and colourful wooden town houses, the long and high shelves in a bookstore, old churches and castle ruins, vast fields and thick forests bordering the roads, close ups of wild flowers and pretty flowerbed arrangements in parks, craftily set main course plates and rich cake pieces. We could have taken selfies or asked someone to take a picture of us. I chose not to take many photos. Only few. Being together, creating these memories together, was enough.

A baby bird. Yesterday after the rain.

The dark clouds. Last stop today.

A field of poppies. On our way home today.