Our first morning in Leavenworth
We all woke up one by one. I was first. I went out on the deck with my yoga mat, rolled it out, and did my stretches. Then I wrapped myself in a wool blanket and sat down to meditate. River came out and sat at the table, put on his headphones, and opened his laptop. He didn’t say a word to me, which I appreciated.
Then Nick was next. He sat at the table next to River (also wordlessly) and wrote in his notebook, looking up occasionally and thinking, then bowing his head again. I could hear his hand sliding across the page: slide, scratch scratch, slide, scratch scratch. I wanted to ask him what he was writing about. Probably something good and honest, because he wasn't expecting anyone else to read it.
Braxton came down the stairs and bowed to me at the foot of the couch where I was lying and reading, mocking my attempt at peace and quiet study in the morning. He was always joking. He would joke at a funeral. So I never thought much of it and just smiled and bowed back and went along with him and had fun with it and was honestly impressed by him being able to come up with so many jokes all the time, an art form in its own right.
Nick came in to get the coffee pot and asked me if I wanted any. I said I was alright. He took the pot out on the deck to give everyone a refill. Cameron came down and asked where the coffee was. I told him the pot was out on the deck. He said okay, but then he couldn’t find any mugs in the cabinet either. River said, “Did you check the dishwasher?” Sure enough, there were all the mugs.
Eventually, everyone was getting up—some coming down from the loft upstairs, others from the rooms down the hall. A few bleary-eyed, hobbling—those who stayed up later and drank more. They all ended up on the deck, drinking coffee, telling stories. I got up from the couch and went out to join them as the sun was rising and the clouds were burning off and the day was getting louder.