As the poplar leaves shimmered in a late summer breeze and the willow stretched its long fingers towards the water, shading fattened fuzzy catkins near to bursting, I stood near a stand of ripe blackberries on a blanket of tiny pine cones defeated by gravity, not wanting to return to work maybe ever again. I completed the day successfully via a combination of skill and luck, hoping both hold in that balance until Thursday evening when my good friend arrives for a long weekend.