Offline
Stretched out on the couch, my husband shut his eyes—the eye doctor’s visit left his eyes dilated for the evening.
A warm fire provided a soft glow, and I sat nearby reading. It was a companionable time. I read, he rested, the fire burned, and the forest beyond the cabin was quiet.
After an hour, I went to the piano, and began playing the songs I scribed years ago. How long had it been since I chose to play in the evening?
Then we talked—about life, family, faith, and the future neither of us can see.
What was so different? We hadn’t let our phones interfere. There wasn’t a Facebook update to check out, or a Twitter feed to follow. No computers or televisions were around to make their screens glow.
It was an old-fashioned evening in an old cabin with an older couple reveling in the newness of being detached from the tethered ropes of our online world.
Maybe the old way of enjoying the evening can become the new way.