Warm-up...
It's the evening of December 14th, and a smattering of stars flicker in and out of wispy, cloud-streaked skies. It's deceptively frigid in Ames, Iowa... the air is snow-less but possesses a wind that favors the taste of scarf-less cheeks and gloveless hands.
Julie and I step out the door of our apartment. She's decked from head to toe in fleece... hat, coat, gloves, pants. I've decided to humor the wind with a sweatshirt thrown over my tee-shirt. No gloves, though, and no scarf. I like to feel my cheeks blaze crimson as the icy wind skirts around them.
She leads me up a sidewalk I've never been on before. At the end lies a childcare center, empty now, and behind that a patch of woods. Julie, of course, coaxes me over multiple fences and we find ourselves at a tiny playground, nestled in the midst of the woods.
"Is that a merry-go-round? I haven't been on one of those things in years..." She takes off, running, and I follow her slowly. The place is eerie, cold, and yet... enchanting. Julie leaps to the center of the circle and grips one of the multi-colored bars, while I grab another and sprint in a circle, my feet digging into the leaf-littered ground as I propel her around and around. She yelps with delight and sinks to the surface of the merry-go-round, her face craned to the sky. "You need to try this..."
We switch places. I lie outstretched on the flat, bone-chilling metal, my arms spread above my head. She races alongside, spinning me faster and faster. A laugh escapes me, something deep and instinctual and full of wondrous joy. The stars are twirling overhead, beyond the blur of stark tree branches. Time slows to a standstill, and the heavens dance.
We leave that place in fits of giggles, our souls craving more adventure.
"Look," she says, her coat flapping wildly around her like a bilious cape. "I'm Batman!"
I laugh. No, I'm Batman.
"You can't be Batman. You don't have a cape. You're Robin."
I am not Robin! I'm taller than you are.
"So?" Her tone is grudging.
And I whine less.
"Hey!"
And I've got a darker personality.
Her head tilts as she considers. "Well, okay. I'll give you that."
We cross the raucous noise and lights of 13th Street, our noses wrinkling through clouds of exhaust fumes, and duck into the solemn expanse of a nearby golf course. I tell Julie I've been running here thrice during the past week, and at no point in time have I seen another soul. We melt into the darkness, leaving cars and campus and cares behind.
You know that song, 'My Favorite Things?' I jump an oblong puddle that traverses one of the golf carts paths. It shines dimly with the reflection of sparse starlight.
"Sure, from 'The Sound of Music.'"
She lists eight things in that song. I've been thinking... what would be yours?
"My favorite things?" Julie thinks for a while, adjusting her gloves against the bite of the wind. "Warm, windy evenings in the spring... sunrises in Indiana... well, I don't know. What are yours?"
Fresh bouquets of purple lilacs. Warm, sleek bouncy puppies. The smell of a warm horse barn on a cold winter's day. Chocolate chip cookies baking. Cool, misty evenings. When you're three-fourths of the way through a good book and you can't stop. I take a long breath, and she nods, knowing how nice all of those things are. And two that I can't resist putting in the list... falling asleep in another's arms. I watch her roll her head in exasperation, and I grin. And warm, tender kisses.
"Okay, that's enough."
I laugh, knowing that she'll understand when she falls in love, someday. We huff and puff up a steep hill, around a bend of pine trees, and down again. The night is dark enough that, if one utilizes sufficient imagination, the golf course path appears to take a turn down into a valley and through a dense wood.
We emerge from the woods and cross a hilly green. The top is shrouded with a cover of canvassy, plastic material.
"It's like a big tumbling mat!" We dive to the ground, rolling and cartwheeling. Far off, I can see the lights of 13th Street, but the noise of civilization can't reach us here. Again that night, we lie on our backs and stare up at the clouds, where the stars play hide and seek. We still dread the oncoming tests of finals week. We still miss our families and our loved ones. But we are, for the moment, at peace with the world. It suffices.
Julie and I step out the door of our apartment. She's decked from head to toe in fleece... hat, coat, gloves, pants. I've decided to humor the wind with a sweatshirt thrown over my tee-shirt. No gloves, though, and no scarf. I like to feel my cheeks blaze crimson as the icy wind skirts around them.
She leads me up a sidewalk I've never been on before. At the end lies a childcare center, empty now, and behind that a patch of woods. Julie, of course, coaxes me over multiple fences and we find ourselves at a tiny playground, nestled in the midst of the woods.
"Is that a merry-go-round? I haven't been on one of those things in years..." She takes off, running, and I follow her slowly. The place is eerie, cold, and yet... enchanting. Julie leaps to the center of the circle and grips one of the multi-colored bars, while I grab another and sprint in a circle, my feet digging into the leaf-littered ground as I propel her around and around. She yelps with delight and sinks to the surface of the merry-go-round, her face craned to the sky. "You need to try this..."
We switch places. I lie outstretched on the flat, bone-chilling metal, my arms spread above my head. She races alongside, spinning me faster and faster. A laugh escapes me, something deep and instinctual and full of wondrous joy. The stars are twirling overhead, beyond the blur of stark tree branches. Time slows to a standstill, and the heavens dance.
We leave that place in fits of giggles, our souls craving more adventure.
"Look," she says, her coat flapping wildly around her like a bilious cape. "I'm Batman!"
I laugh. No, I'm Batman.
"You can't be Batman. You don't have a cape. You're Robin."
I am not Robin! I'm taller than you are.
"So?" Her tone is grudging.
And I whine less.
"Hey!"
And I've got a darker personality.
Her head tilts as she considers. "Well, okay. I'll give you that."
We cross the raucous noise and lights of 13th Street, our noses wrinkling through clouds of exhaust fumes, and duck into the solemn expanse of a nearby golf course. I tell Julie I've been running here thrice during the past week, and at no point in time have I seen another soul. We melt into the darkness, leaving cars and campus and cares behind.
You know that song, 'My Favorite Things?' I jump an oblong puddle that traverses one of the golf carts paths. It shines dimly with the reflection of sparse starlight.
"Sure, from 'The Sound of Music.'"
She lists eight things in that song. I've been thinking... what would be yours?
"My favorite things?" Julie thinks for a while, adjusting her gloves against the bite of the wind. "Warm, windy evenings in the spring... sunrises in Indiana... well, I don't know. What are yours?"
Fresh bouquets of purple lilacs. Warm, sleek bouncy puppies. The smell of a warm horse barn on a cold winter's day. Chocolate chip cookies baking. Cool, misty evenings. When you're three-fourths of the way through a good book and you can't stop. I take a long breath, and she nods, knowing how nice all of those things are. And two that I can't resist putting in the list... falling asleep in another's arms. I watch her roll her head in exasperation, and I grin. And warm, tender kisses.
"Okay, that's enough."
I laugh, knowing that she'll understand when she falls in love, someday. We huff and puff up a steep hill, around a bend of pine trees, and down again. The night is dark enough that, if one utilizes sufficient imagination, the golf course path appears to take a turn down into a valley and through a dense wood.
We emerge from the woods and cross a hilly green. The top is shrouded with a cover of canvassy, plastic material.
"It's like a big tumbling mat!" We dive to the ground, rolling and cartwheeling. Far off, I can see the lights of 13th Street, but the noise of civilization can't reach us here. Again that night, we lie on our backs and stare up at the clouds, where the stars play hide and seek. We still dread the oncoming tests of finals week. We still miss our families and our loved ones. But we are, for the moment, at peace with the world. It suffices.