Slowfall

Slowfall

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin.

The sky, completely encompassed in white that day. Diamond like snow, rushing amongst the piercing winds, and covering our path as if it were a red carpet to our destination. Wind blew faster than we drove. On both sides of the road were a gamut of trees, still and steadfast, covered in icy gleam, slightly providing a shield as we steadily moved towards the architectural marvel we’d call home for a few days. Below the mountain, the snowfall was so hard I almost convinced myself I couldn’t drive up. Like her, I had a certain level of anxiety making way from calm snowfall to what seemed like a blizzard. But, a sense of clairvoyance kicked inside of me once I realized our GPS signal began to finally wane away, and any hope of seeing the address of the cabin would have to be on one us, well me, battling the winds afront. I couldn’t allow that. I just kept telling her “the wind will slow down as we get closer to it. I promise.” Sometimes, I question if that deluded confidence to assure my lady we were safe was just that or purely intuition, and a blessing.

“It slowed down!”

Her voice echoes in my mind with the sound of relief and solace. The trees, still and steadfast, covered in gleam seemed even more still. The icy snow that once flew like shrapnel, now fell fluffily in slow motion. Unconsciously, my foot pressed a tad harder on the pedal. Our path shined brighter and brighter, as the white of the sky began to dissipate from the giant yellow orb, that was seeming like a wish to us both. No longer were we at the precipice of defeat in the long journey. We finally made our ascension to our home.

Our eyes opened, with more than a gleam of hope, but pure jubilance. As we made it into the driveway, my lady and I, with tears of joy and a dropped jaw, in synchronicity wowed at the most beautiful cabin we’ve ever seen ! The only thing missing would’ve been some cliche opera music playing in the background of this scene. When I placed the car in park, she immediately rushed out of the car and powered through the inches of snow before the steps. I got out of the vehicle, and let out a long sigh of relief that I saw mesh slowly with the calm wind. I remember just looking at the cabin, amazed by the incredible use of material and topography, the mountain valley and lake peaking directly through the glass of the front facade, and my lady, cracking the code of the box for the key still with that bright smile with gratitude. That moment in the driveway was the first great memory of the trip, and we hadn’t even stepped inside! But once we entered, it felt like we made entry into heaven.

She burst through the front door. Her aura lit the living room up before the lights fully turned on. In my perception, life finally felt slow. The hustle and bustle of our lives in the city made it hard to connect, even coexist for moments. We went through hardships before we decided to book this trip, and in ways experienced trials in getting to our space of solace. It had been a very long time since I saw her teeth other than when the paste and bristles met in the mornings and nights, and other times in the midst of passive discord or arguments. Many days without a real conversation, purely out of the frustration of our individual work lives. For once I really felt a connection with her, and her with I. The space, with its elevated ceilings and incredible minimalist display, made it even easier to focus on just our love.

We wandered within the space to get to know it. The feeling felt like the joy her and I shared when we first moved into our high rise. An insatiable curiosity created by the use of materials, the many angles and glass panels, and the environment that gazed into our inclosed heaven. It was already warm upon our entry, and all I could feel is the heat of a love my lady and I once shared. The moments of our unconscious rekindling were merely created by a wonder of newness mixed with the familiarity of our foundation. We were so adventurous before life happened. It felt wonderful to be warm, by each other's side as we traversed.

“I’ll be right back my love”

I left the interior of the architectural masterpiece, to admire the exterior and all it was surrounded by. I felt blessed to be there in Index, Washington. I felt that love was to be had for the next couple of days, and beyond. Intuition guided me to create this experience for my lady and I. It got me through that breakthrough. It confirmed that I should always consider believing in even the seemingly impossible. Like creating the perfect moment of solace. I couldn’t have been more appreciative of it all by seeing that snow fall in slow motion. I created a new space of hope for love by simply going to another space, with the person I want to be in my universe until the end. Standing in that driveway, before grabbing our bags was the first great memory for myself. I felt at peace. With the snow that fell in slow motion, with the mountains that stand tall, the lake that reflected like sapphire, and those trees that surround this little glimpse of heaven, still and steadfast.

I climbed those stairs with all of our baggage. She met me at the door, with that same vibrancy. I looked into her eyes, still outside in the chill of dusk, and said “I love you dearly until we are old and gray”. She laughed with the spirit of a little kid and said “I do.”

Time surely moves slow when you realize the concept of forever is in the love you share with someone very important outside of yourself. I reentered the cabin and closed the door behind me, along with many doors left ajar in our lives. That stay at that cabin in the mountains I’ll never forget. We caught the sunset, the snow remained slow and the trees, still and steadfast. All that was missing was the opera music, for the newly wed husband and wife.

We will never forget that stay at that cabin in Washington, and noticing the snow falling slow.