dancing with the stars

          So I took my husband to the country for the weekend recently. It was his birthday and he decided that getting away would be a true gift as he has been crazy busy over the past eight or so months. He runs a non-profit and is the kind of person who loves what he does and he does it wholeheartedly many hours every day. Sometimes  he's even doing it at 3 am when I find him in front of the computer editing a report or answering emails.  If he is particularly vexed about some work related dilemma, he heads then to his music room, slaps on his earphones and works it out on his bass guitar. And even after a night like that, he is usually pretty good humored in the morning. In fact sometimes I, myself, cannot  even believe some of the lines he comes up with when I get up. Like this little exchange from last week:

              Me:  ( mumbling sleepily as I round the corner in my comfortably shapeless Kelly green robe and  bed head hair)   Morning, how are you?

              Him:  ( cheeky  and grinning)  Oh I am so lucky!

              Me:   Really....why?

              Him:  Because I am always the first person who gets to see your beautiful face in the morning.


             Now, really...how in hell can you not melt at something as sweetly goofy as that? (And want to give him a good present, of course.)

            So we headed north to a resort that is mostly rustic with a few special touches thrown in. Like a horse drawn carriage that picks you up in the morning to trot you about  100 ft to the restaurant serving breakfast, and yummy homemade muffins in the main building that are complimentary and restocked often. The cabins have gas log fireplaces and sit above the lakes that dot the property. They all feature porch swings and a sense of privacy  that is heightened by the canopy of trees that surrounds and separates them. No television, no internet, or phone. Just you, the sounds of the woods and the wildlife, and beyond that the kind of quiet that slowly begins to permeate and then starts to relax those shoulders that get locked up around your ears in the din of daily life in the city. The kind of quiet that makes you just want to sit silently, shoulder to shoulder on that porch swing and watch the fishes darting below in the lake...until you notice the two alligators making their way, ever so slowly, to shore.  Hmmmmm... But after a glass or two of the nice Malbec that you packed, they seem like genuinely friendly and laid back alligators. And really, all  those steps would be a challenge to negotiate when you walk on your belly...wouldn't they?

        Luckily for us, it turned into a crystal clear and chilly night - the kind where the outside fire pits that ring the cabins were snapping and crackling and scenting the air with the smells of autumn. We decided to stroll the grounds and bundled up for our little hike. When we had passed by the lights of the cabins, the night was inky black  - until we looked up. And there - in eye popping splendor - was the night sky plastered in the kind of brilliance that  makes city people gasp and remember what they are missing.  So many stars: some blazing, some twinkling, some clustered in patches so thick that they bled into one another. Constellations and planets and galaxies, all  resembling some cosmic nightclub where the old favorites put in an appearance and bring the house down.  As little as I know about astronomy and the heavens, I know this.  There is nothing that feeds the spirit like a few hours spent under a clear and quiet country sky.  For those of us who live suffused in light, time spent  taking a twirl or two in the deep and clear dark of a starry night can drain away some of the  lingering buzz of all that is so relentlessly yet artificially bright.

       We returned to the cabin, pleasantly chilled, and star-sated.  Just for fun, we left the fireplace on as the sounds of the north wind whipping the branches just outside nudged us towards sleep.

       That was our weekend.  Dancing with the stars -- country style.