Yesterday, the weather was excruciatingly hot. And yet, for some reason, even if I knew how much I would feel the sweat dripping off me standing in the crowd in the sun, even if I knew about the headache that would hit me almost the second I stepped foot inside my cool, air-conditioned building, even if I knew I would hardly be able to move for the rest of the night, I would do it all again.
This was my first glimpse of the salmon hat:
A friend and I stood in the heat along a fenced-off walkway for approximately 1 and half hours, wondering aloud if she was going to come down that way, if she was even going to bother greeting the crowd, what with the heat. She is 80 after all. There was a camaraderie among everyone standing in the heat with their cameras at the ready. We commiserated, chatted, joked, and listened in on other people’s conversations.
And then she came. Probably one of the cutest old people I’ve ever seen.
She took flowers from someone about five people down from us. As she moved away, I was struck by her expression: it seemed like there was an apprehension in it, a nervousness about how she was supposed to react to these people clapping and cheering and taking her picture. Perhaps this is what I wanted to see. She would be used to it, I know, after 58 years of being the queen but I can’t help but wonder if she tires of it at all.
She moved on and climbed into a black, air-conditioned car leaving us, her subjects, I suppose, (well, I am… the person I went with isn’t a Canadian citizen and therefore has no patriotic loyalty to the Crown) to find our way out of the park and into a Mexican restaurant where we attempted to find some coolness in the fans blowing in our faces as we devoured a taco salad each and gratefully slurped a cold margarita.