I still want to be buddies when we're 94

Friends.  

I have, in my circle of friends, a handful of people that I SO want to grow old with.

They’re the ones who’ll ride broomsticks with me when the moon’s full, 

swing from the chandeliers when we’ve imbibed too much  fruit of the vine 

and talk non-stop just because we can.  

They’re the ones who ALWAYS get their feet wet in the waves no matter the season of the year. 

They dance in the rain with me because what else would you want to be doing when it’s raining. 

 They share in my beautiful moments and lift me up when I’m sad.

These friendships melt away miles, hours, feelings .... they just ARE.

All of this was bought home to me so vividly today whilst having coffee with one of this handful of friends. We shared a moment and thought the same thing

  ... we still want to be buddies when we’re 94.

Yes, I know.  We’re odd-ball ... but who cares.

She understands my need for scrambling over rocks and boulders

 to capture shots of those ever elusive kingfishers.  

She sees the sense in mud between the toes and sodden shoes.  

She sees life through a lens like I do ... but in a very different way.

Like me, she believes that living a full life means allowing the petals of your soul 

to fully unfold and to bask in the energy that it brings.

Life IS a big adventure.  An excess of energy is needed to live it fully.

I love that my rambles each day are in the company of a jovial chocolate brown hound 

who HAS that excess of energy in abundance. 

I love that she’s ever so slightly obsessed with rugby balls and logs. 

I love that she’s ever so slightly obsessed with me.

There are worse things to be obsessed by.

When I think of this handful of friends that I want to grow old with, I can’t help but smile.  

Each and every one of them, in their very own way, adds a bit of themselves to the kaleidoscope that is me.