Michael and Elizabeth's Candlelit Dinner

[EarthquakeMan]

Michael and Elizabeth's Candlelit Dinner.

. . . I’ve left a trail of rose petals from our garden that I hope Elizabeth will follow to this private and secluded spot . . .

 

[EarthquakeMan]

This place is well beyond our garden, a place Elizabeth discovered and suggested as a spot for a picnic. There is a small grassy spot on the banks of a stream, it’s water bubbling over rock. On the opposite side of the stream is a small overgrown meadow. It was beautiful when I spent time here today in the midday sun, preparing for this evening, but now I see clouds obscuring the moon and feel the autumn chill. I had grown so accustomed to the perfect magic of our garden that I had failed to plan for the evening temperature. I had brought blankets, because the night was intended as a moonlit picnic, but I hadn’t considered we might be huddled in them as we ate around the little table I had set up. And while I had taken great care in selecting the items needed to prepare what I hope will be a sumptuous meal, all else was casual except for the two old candlesticks on the rickety table . . .

I light a small fire I had earlier built and it agreed, reluctantly, to burn. I checked the items I had wrapped in and left dangling in the stream so that they would remain chilled and fresh. To help establish the mood, I lit the two candles on the rustic table.

The cold wind picked up and they blew out.

It occurs to me that without the candles, I might as well have taken Elizabeth camping.

 

[~Elizabeth~]

Upon my final preparations for this special evening Michael has planned, I walk out of our bedroom to find the trail of petals he has left behind.

Down the stairs I move and through the cabin until I reach the backdoor. Wondering what he might have planned, I grab a flashlight to continue out the door and down the path to a lovely meadow I found just the other day.

As I approach the area, I see two candles being blown out by the wind. With the darkness now surrounding Michael, I sneak up behind him as quietly as I can to touch him on the shoulder and call his name.

 

[EarthquakeMan]

Elizabeth!

You look radiant, darling.

~ I rush to grab a blanket to cover her shoulders, to protect her against the night, but I see she looks not the least chilled . . . and . . . the air has warmed . . . and the clouds have parted to reveal a brilliant moonlight, bright enough to illuminate the meadow, now vast and alive with Lilies of the Valley, butterflies dancing among them . . . and the rocks in the small riverbed have been transformed to ivory and the gurgle of the water has become the melody of Claire De Lune, as if Debussy himself were gliding his fingers downstream . . . I turn to see the small table I had set . . . and the candlesticks are now spun gold and their wicks spring to life, burning brightly . . . and I realize . . . ~

My love, I’d always believed our garden was blessed with magic. But now I understand. It is you who have blessed the garden.

The magic is yours.

And it follows wherever you go.

 

[~Elizabeth~]

Your love is the inspiration for that magic darling, I whisper upon the wind. I then step into Michael's arms to gently press my lips against his own.

Stepping back, still holding his hand, I look up and smile. Curiosity begins to send questions through my mind and I finally ask what Michael has planned for our evening alone.

 

[EarthquakeMan]

and I finally ask what Michael has planned for our evening alone.

A candlelit dinner. And then . . .

Hungry, love?

 

[~Elizabeth~]

A candlelit dinner. And then . . .

Hungry, love?

Yes my darling, actually I am, just can't decide which I want to fulfill first. My need for you or the grumbling in my tummy.

 

[~Elizabeth~]

As Michael turns to re-light the candle, I sneak over to the picnic basket laid on the table to peek inside, hoping to find out what he has in mind for dinner.