I saw a man and woman crossing the street one day this week. They were about sixty-five and walking hand in hand. He looked like the sort of man who had been a letter carrier until retirement. She looked like the sort of woman who worked in a care home or a nursery school. They looked so happy as they crossed the street, hands swinging together. He smiled down at her from his considerable height. She gazed up at him, head bent right back. They looked like newlyweds; a couple in the first, hot flush of infatuation, eyes only for one another. The two of them were dressed entirely in black leather. He wore a cowboy hat, Australian style, and black leather pants and jacket. She wore a black fisherman's cap, black pants and jacket. Both of them wore big, white, puffy running shoes. They looked quite goofy and were completely oblivious to the traffic that had stopped to let them cross.
I watched them for about a minute. Whoever they were, they were utterly in the moment.
It was beautiful.