It occurred to me while I was down there, on the pier, looking across the river toward the city, that this would be one of the last times I’d be able to do so, as A. and I are planning to move out of our apartment and to leave for Wyoming in about a month. And I felt somewhat nostalgic, naturally. Though I did not permit myself to become so nostalgic that I’d begin to regret A.’s and my decision. Which I think is the right one. Or, anyway, not the wrong one. Insofar as there can be a wrong one and a right one, in a situation such as ours.