Why are men still proposing?
We didn't have much of an audience. There was a couple just out of earshot reverently staring at the horizon, and a lone crow hovering in place a couple of feet in front of us, its glossy black body effortlessly buoyed by the lift of the ocean wind. "Hey, you," I told the bird, nonchalantly. "We just got engaged."
Christopher and I had hiked four miles through the mossy Point Reyes forest to a dramatic cliff overlooking the ocean. We sat in the dirt, which was pockmarked with mouse holes and accented with ice plant in electric-pink bloom. Turquoise waves churned below and a seagull took stomach-turning dives as we read each other letters we had written moments before alongside a shady creek. These notes -- our individual expressions of why we wanted to make this commitment -- said the same things with different words. We cried, hugged and then took turns asking, "Will you marry me?" We both said yes and, hands shaking, slipped engagement rings on each other's fingers.