May 02, 2002 - 09:38 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

And Then

Funny, how reading another person's entry my memory gets joggled and brings some of my past back. Also how it sets my mood.

Rain was mentioned and I saw two young people embarking on a life together, set down into a ghost town in our mountains during wartime. Little to no traffic there, no neighbors, busses, taxis or street cars. Just quiet and the poesy of mother nature. Waking in the morning looking at each other with eyes of love and anticipation of what the day might bring us or rather what we could bring to ourselves that day. Air cool for June, heavily pine scented and a brook burbling within hearing.

The area usually had an afternoon rain, soon over, the air sparkly and the scene as if fresh painted and not dry yet. Heather and I, after the first day there fell quickly into taking our afternoon nap then.

Our abode for a short time an old two story, almost tumble down cabin which had the basics, a sink without a faucet, a wood stove, a small storage space for pots, pans, silverware and dishes. Water was hand carried from the brook. Upstairs was an old double bed with associated bedding, underneath a galvanized, corrugated iron roof.

That was our afternoon refuge, our time of two personalities almost becoming one entity. Sex was with us of course but not in that period of the afternoon, aside from that we came close to being one person in two bodies.

We would see the clouds wafting eastward over our location and head for the cabin from whatever recreation we were pursuing at the moment. Went upstairs, the both of us, shed a few clothes, lay down under a light cover just about the time the first drops hit the roof. We would drift off to sleep as we were hearing the sound of light rain on the tin roof. Soothing, calming and reassuring that sound. Feeling protected, comforted and content.

Not all afternoon rains were the same and a different symphony would be played sometimes. One very heavy afternoon rain thundering on the roof, one hail storm that was deafening. But each time was the feeling of security and comfort of shelter, the two of us entire to ourselves.

We didn't talk much about our afternoon naps then, the rain would stop and we would put on a light wrap, go outside to see the fresh washed reality of life up in the mountains.

We had much fun, and bonded together under very ideal circumstances, each day blessed by a nap while rain pattered or thundered on a galvanized iron roof. In preparation for what ever we would face together in life.

And Then . . . . . . .

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