Eventually we arrived at our "Hideout", the Delta Grandview Lodge in Huntsville. The Grandview is spread out in dozens of buildings through several hundred acres of forest, all connected by cinder pathways that wound their way through the woods.
The main restaurant was closed for a function, so we had our first meal at the Owl's Head Pub, while we watched it rain outside through the Pub's large windows.
We also watched it rain from our balcony while we drank our coffee the next morning.
This was our balcony where we sat and watched it rain while drinking our coffee.
The next day we walked through the endless drizzle to the Rosewood Inn, the Lodges' main dining room in a large mansion that has been part of the landscape for over a hundred years.
Linda paused to take in the view, while I reminded her it was raining and warmth and breakfast we mere feet away.
After drying out over a delicious breakfast in the old mansion, we walked back to our suite, through the rain.
Did I mention that our suite was a kilometer from the restaurant? Did I mention that it rained?
Did I mention that the rain brought out the rich tangy aroma of the pine needles, that it forced us to slow down, that it was refreshing, that it brought a silence to the land, that it glistened on the deep red and yellow leaves of the trees, that we held hands on our walk when we weren't photographing each other, or that it brought a deep and profound sense of peace to the forest.
That it forced us to relax.
Well, I should have.
When We Were Just 65
13 hours ago
