Part #1 Burn it
He had just bought the house and decided this called for a house party. He spread the word, everyone and anyone was invited. Many people came, some he knew well and others, one in particular, he barely knew. There were house warming gifts, one of them a red wheelbarrow.
The party was cooking, wine, beer, joints and music. So, just for kicks, he decided to bring out the amortization schedule with all the interest calculations and payment due dates for 30 years. A lengthy document. He called for everyone’s attention. Holding it high above his head, he gripped and held page #1 of the schedule and then released the remaining, watching each page unfold, one by one until the last page touched the floor. In the end, 6 feet of dates. His performance was well received. People responded with all sorts of clever bank “put downs” and then this beautiful woman spoke. She said, “burn it”. Without another word, it was thrown into the red wheelbarrow, fired up and in minutes, hundreds of due dates and calculations a pile of ash.
But another fire, a love story, had been sparked, one that would outlast the 30 year mortgage.
Part 2 The Smell of Dirt.
They didn’t really know each other. They had shared friends, social events and parties but had never touched or for that matter done anything alone together. It was becoming clear though, that there was a shared attraction, an energy. So when she jumped at the idea, of dropping everything and sneaking into Ellison park for a midnight walk it wasn’t a surprise.
The night was pitch black, no moonlight or stars, no wind everything still and quiet. In the darkness they felt their way along a little used narrow path, brushing up against bushes and trees. They barely talked and when they did they whispered protecting the silence as they made their way climbing up and along the back of a long glacial drumlin. At the top, there was a sharp, sandy drop-off, an opening, a lookout. In the far distance, the black silhouette of trees on a ridge.
They stood silently taking in the night, the feel of the place, the presence of the other. A sense of time had been lost so it wasn’t clear how long it had been when she turned to him and spoke words that touched him deep inside. Words that told him something about her that would endure for years and years. In the dark, face to face, she quietly said, “ I love the smell of dirt”.