Viv stood slightly behind him, the gravel crunching under her boots as she shifted slightly. The breeze was up and it was chilly. Her nose was frozen and she was trying hard not to sniff. She’d forgotten how cold it could get in the late fall. It was a lucky day in that the normal rain had decided to hold off and they had a rare bit of sunshine for this November morning. She ignored the nagging feelings of physical discomfort, choosing instead to focus on William. He looked elated, and had been walking briskly ahead of her, looking around at the naked branches and brushy vegetation next to the path. She tried not to smile to herself as she watched him or think about how endearing his enthusiasm was. She also tried not to think about how much pleasure she took in just watching him, how he moved, that springy, leggy walk of his. And even though she was slightly behind him, she could tell he was smiling by the curve of his cheek. She could almost taste his utter lack of self-consciousness. He was just being himself and the warmth of knowing that pooled suddenly and wickedly in the pit of her stomach. Embarrassed, she brushed at her toque, moving her hair away from her face and reached out to tap his arm.

“Here,” she said, reaching into the brown paper bag and passing a handful of seeds to him. “Hold still, like this, stretch your arm out.”

She watched him slowly stretch his arm out, palm upward, seeds pooled invitingly. She waited, breathing out slowly, as a single chickadee flitted to hover and then land on his hand, pecking at the seeds. The tiny masked face tilted this way and that, claws clinging to his finger. William turned his head very slowly over his shoulder, trying not to startle the tiny bird, and his face lit as it pecked seed from his hand.

She let him stand there for a long time until he was done, and all the seed was gone. She moved closer to him, and they stood heads bent together in the quiet with only the wind curling around them and the chittering of little brown birds and the occasionally squawk from a startled duck.

The feeling of closeness was only broken by the sound of voices and the crunch of gravel signaling the existence of other people. Perhaps they had come for the snow geese, and Viv felt a flit of regret that they couldn’t have the place to themselves. Reifel Bird Sanctuary was mostly deserted this early in the morning, but it was a popular place around this time of year. She usually came for the cranes, but in late October/November the snow geese would stop in their migration and fuel up here on the jut of wetland that formed the Westham island part of the Fraser River Estuary. Visiting the bird sanctuary had been a bi-annual pilgrimage of hers before the children, before her partner. And now she was sharing it with William.

She was a little startled when he slipped his hand around hers, pulling her against him. It wasn’t like him to engage in physical contact, but he jerked his head forward, tugging her along the path. She acquiesced and they moved along, comfortable and content. It was only a few moments before the path lead out from the trees and down by one of the more central pond areas. The mallards were swimming along in pairs or sitting in the mud with their heads tucked down into their bodies so they looked like neckless feathered tureens.

“Let’s go up onto the platform,” she said pointing to the large metal observation tower for the bird watchers. There were a few areas in the park where there were blinds as well, but the tower had a great view of the river. She shaded her eyes so she could see as she gripped the cold metal of the railing going up the stairs. She could feel the bite of the metal despite the fact that she had her mittens on. William was close behind which was a good thing because a moment later she caught the toe of her boot on the next step and nearly stumbled. He caught her easily, handing her up to the next step as if nothing had happened. The leaned together at the railing, surveying the mud and the dead brown stalks and brushy bits. The wind was cutting a swath up so high and she huddled closer to William. Surprisingly, he did not try to evade her as he had done so often before. Perhaps they had reached a stage where he was finally comfortable with her physical presence.

Viv dug in her pockets and brought out two plastic sandwich bags and handed one to William. She opened her own bag and pulled out a soft white triangle and savored the bite of peanut butter and strawberry jam. He munched beside her leaning up against the railing. She watched him examine his sandwich at eye level and then go back to contented chewing. 

Apparently, William found peanut butter fascinating. She had caught him stirring the jar one day in her kitchen, just watching the knife make patterns in the thick stickiness. His comment had been “hao wan (fun)”. It made her think that peanut butter was probably not a common household item in China.

They had seen the snow geese on their way in, huddled in great white flocks, in the yellow brown stalks of marsh grass. They were certainly not out in the open on the edge of the river.

“William…I’ll show you the blind…”

They descended the tower, stuffing the plastic baggies into their pockets and she showed him the blind used to watch the eagles. It was the smaller one at the sanctuary, window shutter propped open with a stick. 

In the semi-dark, as they looked out, he pulled her awkwardly into his embrace and kissed her.

“Mmmph!”

Unable to breathe, Vivian opened her mouth as he cupped the back of her head.

Releasing her, they stayed silent for some time before she was calm enough to get up. When she did, she tottered a bit. Steadying her, he held onto her legs, placing his head on her belly.

“William…let’s go,” she breathed.

Thankfully, he only nodded.