is the awkward empty space on our weekend calendar that we never know how to fill.
In between active mornings spent outdoors, long leisurely lunches and evenings spent mourning the end of the weekend comforted by Netflix and a bowl of salted popcorn, lies the vacant, vanilla afternoons.
Never earmarked for anything specific, this orphaned chunk of time gets adopted differently each week. On some occasions we cozy up to our Kindles and catch up on reading. On others we play scrabble. Or video chat with our parents. Or dive into the bottomless pit of social media.
But on some afternoons when the low-hung sky darkens with ominous clouds, the lulling breeze blowing in from the windows soothes our skin and the smell of wet earth fills the rooms, on those afternoons with the pitter patter sound of the first raindrops our eyelids become heavy. And even though we squint and blink trying to stay awake, la siesta takes over.
One of us sinks into the sofa, rests his head against the cushions and puts his feet up on the table. The other drops everything, picks up a sketchbook and draws the scene!