Our story spans continents and mountain ranges. Seasons turning in the Upper West Side and cherry blossoms over Central Park. Coffee cups resting on Quebecois countertops, coffee cups cradled in hands shaking from the bumps of the road. A Vanagon bumbling up alpine roadways. Cairns staring out at the undulations of British Columbia, her topography blue and vast at a distance. Lemons swelling with Mediterranean sunshine; drooping, they ask us to pluck them from branches and never forget. Fireside nights in a yurt off the dirt road, the stove too large for small spaces, and a summertime swimming hole under the round-bellied moon. Snow falling on Vermont, opal when the light catches, sun coming through, the trees creaking in the cavernous quiet of winter, and a Dutch oven warm on the stovetop. Candelight reads and a chicken coop built, and, yes, the garden spilling over, unruly and loved. We are fortunate. Thank you for celebrating with us.