COME WITH ME, take my hand and let us go somewhere special, I say to you. And with a soft shy smile you take my hand. It is warm. I squeeze your fingers gently between mine; there is something satisfying about doing that, something that makes me feel warm inside.

Hand in hand we step through no ordinary door, but a portal that takes us elsewhere. Through a shimmer of light, we step into a wide-open space of verdant rolling grassland. Trees dot the landscape, and far off to our left is the start of a forest behind which hang a range of majestic, purple-coloured mountains. To our right, and almost as far as the eye can see, rolling away into the distance, a grassy plain. Before us, angling slightly down, is a valley and a stream.

Ignoring the plain and the lure of the forest, I turn to you with a smile and ask if we should walk down into the valley, to follow the stream. You smile, and I have my answer.

You are dressed in your jeans and a sleeveless blouse of some light delicate material. The shade of blue matches that of the cloudless sky above. I am dressed in an old favoured pair of Levis and a cotton shirt, open at the neck. Neither of us is wearing shoes. And to emphasise the point, we scrunch the grass between our toes laughing as we walk.

I happily listen to you chuckle at our bravado.

How sweet you are.

In the eternal noonday sun we slowly wander down toward a large boulder and a wizened tree stood sentinel next to it. The stream flows just beneath and to one side of the tree. I can hear the gurgling sound that it makes carried on the light breeze, which also tugs gently at our clothing. It muses your hair. I stopped to brush at hand through your hair. It is so soft to the touch.

You smile again, happy at our closeness.

As we approach the boulder I stop and pluck a small blue cornflower and with a smile of my own, present it to you. It compliments the day and you perfectly. You laugh and punch my arm playfully.

I make a suggestion. We will climb the boulder and look at the view. It isn’t very big and certainly not too great a challenge. I scramble up it and hear you laughing lightly behind me, as you watch my efforts. I flop down on the top with a grin. It was an achievement after all. Lying across the boulder and leaning down, I extend my hand toward you. Reaching up you clasp it tightly and I, taking the strain, help you to scramble up to sit next to me.

I roll over onto my back and look up at you. Once more you smile shyly. I reach up a hand and rest it lightly on your arm. You take my hand and, with a squeeze, hold it in your lap. I laugh and say should we be real daring and climb the tree? Your eyes go wide, like saucers. You poke a knee into my side, asking me if I’m joking. I laugh again and say no. You duck your head and, with a grin, say okay let’s do it.

I climb to my feet pulling you up to stand next to me. I look at the tree and then turn and smile at you. You scrunch your face up. I understand the question. Are we mad? No, I tell you.

We will climb the tree not because it is there, not because it represents a challenge, but because we want to, because the view will be breath taking. You nod your head and smile your enthusiasm.

I surprise you then, putting my arms round you, hugging you close. You ask me what that was for? And I say, nothing in particular. And thank you simply for being.

We laugh at our silliness, like two content children.

We climb the tree like Swiss mountaineers. We carefully choose each branch, each step. I follow behind you, guiding your feet and steadying your balance occasionally with a hand. You take the lead, take the initiative. I watch you fearlessly tackle each branch, proud of you. I feel a wave of emotion flood over me. I’m content. I’m happy. I smile broadly, and you ask me what’s so funny? I say you and see a mischievous look in your eyes. We are so close, so very close. I point my hand upward, you nod.

In a moment we are stood clinging to not only the tree for support but one another. We have reached the top. The sound of your laughter is infectious. I squeeze you tight with one arm, while the other is wrapped round the trunk of the tree. Minutes pass in quiet harmony. With a soft contented sigh, I turn; step over a branch broad enough to take our weight and straddle it, inviting you to sit wedged in-between the tree’s trunk and me.

Your look, as you sit, warms my heart.

You poke me in the ribs with a finger, again laughing, and say shall we look at the view? I chuckle and say I’d almost forgotten what we’d come up here for. You flash a smile then admonish me with a look.

We both lean forward then and grab small branches obscuring the view, and part them. I tighten my hold on you in case you slip I say. You chuckle and say, you doubt you would ever fall, not while I was there.

Moments pass in quiet as we both sit, content in each other’s company. You fidget to get a better view. I sigh quietly next to your ear. I don’t want this moment to end, but I know we will share others. I suggest we move. My butt has gone to sleep. You turn with a fleeting sad smile and say yes, we should.

Without another word being said, we retreat, following our previous route down to the boulder. And, when at last we are stood, side-by-side again, we look up at the slightly crooked oak and thank it for being.

You laugh and say we are mad.

I shyly take your hand and squeezing it, once again thank you for being in my life. Then, leaning in close, steal the kiss I’ve been wishing for all day.
 
THE END
 
© ALEXANDRA WOLFE