It rained hard all day, but it cleared up late at night. I fell asleep under a clear canopy of the stars.
I spent most of the night sitting with a friend outside, under a long, brick archway. The night was quiet, and we shared a wonderful solitude. With the heavy rains, few ventured out. We were visited by a couple of deer, and number of fire flies. Under the brick arch, we stayed completely dry, and shared a bottle of wine (Dr. Konstantin Frank, a dry riesling – totally tasty).
We talked about this and that, but talked for hours – about our childhoods, art, and aspirations.
We talked for hours, finally parting ways around midnight.
And when we parted ways, the rain finally stopped, rather abruptly. Indeed, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
The whole day, despite the rain, I’d planned on pitching a tent and sleeping outside. With the rains subsiding, and the clouds having lifted, I took a leap of faith and went without the tent. I found a soft, low-cut, flat stretch of grass, lay down a large plastic tarp, a thick blanket, and then my sleeping bag and pillow.
I folded my hands behind my head, and lost myself in the stars. My view was unobstructed; I could see the Milky Way. After about 20 minutes, a fog rolled into the valley. The lights of the village refracted, stretching out like sharp rays as the fog rolled over.
I felt at peace, a wonderful sense of wonder and belonging.
I awoke the next morning to a beautiful and active sky. Another storm was rolling in.