We have met the grilling of days of late spring, which only makes us hunger for summer. I'm really just a huge fan of eating supper in the garden, you know. On the back patio, on the deck, on the roof of the building, in a deep-set, open window. The air was gold as the meat comes off of the grill and we finished making salads in the kitchen. All the food comes out onto the table. It groans with the weight of it. As the light fades, we linger over mouthfuls of roasted potatoes, lamb, and kale salad. Later in the summer there will be tomatoes and zucchini from the garden, pork shishkabobos, fresh spinach, and berries from the vine for dessert. Now we hurry inside because the sun does not leave enough warmth behind it, but in a few months we will be there still when the stars come out. For now, though, we are content to eat under the branches of the cherry tree, together.