A Winter Home

"Footsteps in the snow

suggest where you have been,

point to where you were going:

but when they suddenly vanish,

never dismiss the possibility

of flight."

-Diane Duane

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. Windows down and heat blasting. Winter wind stung our cheeks like seasonal kisses and snowflakes danced spirals around our car. We didn’t need words to describe the shared excitement at our boreal adventure. We had the squeeze of loving hands on thighs; joy gleaming glances; a companionable silence that filled our bodies with a shared but still individual experience.

This is how we completed the rest of the drive to the cabin sequestered in the enchanted landscape.

With our car parked in a roughly shoveled space the length of a pickup truck, we simply stood next to the car after exiting, doors left open. Silence was a complex song in this new world. It was a choir of wind, birds, and falling snow. I don’t think either of us knew that falling snow had a sound, but it did- almost indescribable. It was the sound of metal or glass chimes or, as Sage had said, the image of diamonds or crystal in water against a changing backdrop of black, mirrors, and pure white. The longer we stood, bewitched, the more snow covered us- melting on our upturned faces. It was that, that returned me to myself first. I looked over to my love with snowflakes melted on my lashes and down my cheeks; like tears, brought on by the full-bodied beauty of our surroundings.

Before my lips could part to interrupt the silence, our eyes met. A gentle focus on our connection allowing the two of us to call out to one another without words. Snowflake tears graced sweet Sage’s face as it did mine.

We collected our backpacks, shut car doors softly, and climbed the porch of the cabin. Discarding snow covered boots, we entered the cabin.

“Ahh, It feels like a faerie house.” I said, admiring the architecture and decor of the tiny house.

“Home away from away.” Sage said gleefully and then continued after a moment of looking around, “And a fireplace!”

My chest swelled with love. Seeing the Love-of-My-Life, and friend, excited fills me with awesome joy. Our eyes met again and I smiled warmly.

“Why don’t you start the fire and I’ll start some food?” I suggested with an affectionate tilt of my head.

A coat rack, wood sanded and sealed, curved beautifully from the wall next to the door. We unlayered slowly, moving luggage around and then returning to the coat rack to add another layer to a peg. We did this until we had set up everything as we wanted it and we were in socks and winter loungewear.

I started up the cabin’s gas stove, pulling out pots, pans, and ingredients we had picked up on the way to the cabin. While waiting for the water to boil, I checked on the murmuring Sage. Sweet Sage, who had just finished placing a rune marked square of paper on a bit of wood, covered it with a small pile of split wood. A slight pressure filled the cabin and then, the fireplace in front of Sage was holding a strong fire. As soon as the wood was well charred, perhaps a second or so, the pressure evaporated.

The hiss and burble of water beginning to boil pulled me back from that spellbinding demonstration. I readied the pot for stew meat, adding spices and herbs first. I feel arms around my waist and a chin placed gently on my shoulder as I add the meat to the broth. A smile pulls the corners of my mouth and I chuckle when the crook of my neck is tickled with kisses. “You want to be helpful, don’t you?” I teased, adding vegetables and sweet potato noodles to the simmering saucepan.

“Always.” Sage murmured in my ear.

A flush warmed my cheeks and ears. Feeling well teased, I lightly bumped my head against Sage’s, saying in playfully exasperated tone, “Go find us some bowls and spoons,” Sage nuzzles my cheek affectionately before rummaging through the kitchen’s cupboards. Setting two colorful bowls beside the stove, Sage disappears suddenly and I hear rummaging as I stir cornstarch and salt into the soup. I look up to see my love setting down our matching ‘They/Them’ mugs from home and raise my brows in question.

“They inspire me,” Sage said in mock defense, “since we’ll be here for a bit, I couldn’t resist.”

“I guess I’ll just have to make some tea to have with our dinner.”

“Oh, yes, thank you!”

Finished with collecting all the flatware, cups, and bowls Sage hovers, appearing to be attempting to fill-up on the scent of stew. “Why don’t you set up your art stuff? I still have 10-15 minutes left on this.” I said in amusement. Sage turned to me with puppy eyes and smiled again. “I can’t speed up cooking, go, go distract yourself.” I said playfully.

With a kiss to the cheek, Sage went about setting up things for painting and -with a look over my shoulder I saw- for crocheting as well. “Thank you, love.” I called out lightly, warmed by the tiny attention to me.

“No problem!” Sage replied easily.

By the time the soup was plated and placed on the cabin’s little table and I had begun to brew our tea I remembered the second thing I wanted to ask when I saw our mugs. “Hey, you don’t think you’ll forget the mugs, do you?” I worry. Sage looks at me for a moment, in a vague sort of way that suggests a person is thinking and truly seeing who is in front of them.

“You know what,” Sage starts with a smile, “I think it would be great fun to leave them here on purpose. I’m sure the owner won’t mind and it would be super homey for anyone who relates to those mugs!” Sage shrugs with a full blown grin, “We can buy ourselves replacements once we return home.”

I nod, liking the idea, “You’re sweet and silly, c’mon let’s eat before our soup gets cold.”

We ate, chatting about everything and nothing at all while we did so. When we finished, Sage collected our bowls, rinsing and leaving them in the sink for tomorrow. Leftover soup was put in the fridge and salted nuts and a dried fruit mix was pulled out for ‘dessert’ snacking. I lounged in front of the spelled fire, stimming on the giant soft faux fur carpet laid out before it. I rubbed my hands back and forth over and over and over, “Saaaaage, come here. The carpet is so soft.”

Sage trots over with a fresh bowl containing our sweet and salty dessert and plops down next to me. With palms of my hands numb and tingling and the option of munching, crocheting, and warming myself cat-like by the fire, I stop vigorously petting the carpet. Sage opens a sketchbook and pulls a phone out of our nearby backpacks, “Do you want to listen to an audiobook while we relax?”

“Sure.” I said, sprawling even more comfortably than I was before. Sage acted similarly, settling bodily and with a sketchbook and pencils.

We listened to the clever narration of some fantasy epic Sage was in the middle of and did art, side by side. Sage would pause occasionally to clarify a scene or give me a summary of the scene before so I could understand the possible impact of a character’s actions in the current scene. Sometimes I would pause to ask a question or make an indignant remark at a character’s behavior. Then Sage and I might have a brief debate on morals and ethics before returning to the story.

When it got dark, and the fire began to burn quite low, I asked Sage to look at the stars with me. And while Sage first gave a not-so-enthusiastic reply, when I poured hot chocolate the ‘They/Them’ mugs and handed one over, I saw my love’s resigned expression cheer up considerably. I laughed, adding marshmallows and whipped cream to each of our cups. “I’ll make sure we’re comfy, I appreciate you humoring me.” Sage just shrugged with a smile and kissed me lightly. We set our mugs down and layered back up: hat, scarf, and cloak for each of us to top it all off. I picked our steaming mugs up again and Sage opened the cabin door.

We walked down the porch steps of the cabin and to our car. Sage perched on the truck of the car, settled and reached a hand out for both cups. Once unburdened, I joined in leaping up to perch on the car’s truck and arranged my cloak. I took my mug back from Sage and all bundled up, we looked up into the glittering, twinkling void.

The silence of the rural winter day had evolved into a different sort of silence. There was a harsh stillness about night and the darkness seemed to act as an amplifier for everything- sound and feeling. The thickness of their cloaks and the sweet heat of their drinks warmed them enough to be able to enjoy the star speckled sky and the suggestion of that special sort of cold that only winter can produce. When the wind gusted loud and harsh, we cuddled closer- not out of fear but because it was the natural, comfortable thing to do. We sipped and gazed out into the universe until our cups were empty and our bodies began to chill.

“Ready to head inside, love?” Sage’s head is resting on my shoulder when I ask and I give two gentle squeezes of our interlocked hands.

“Mmm” Sage sounds out. I give two more invigorating squeezes of our hands. Gently, pull us both from the top of the car, shaking off the stillness that settled over us as it had the land around us.

“I’m wiped out.” Sage yawns.

“Do you want to wind down or head to bed now?” I ask with a yawn of my own. I open the cabin door and usher Sage in before me. The heat from the, now barely there, fire washed over us as soon the cabin door was firmly closed behind us.

“I swear this place is better insulated than our house.” Sage says in a dry tone, feeling how warm the cabin was despite being warmed by fire and the door being opened twice.

“Love.” I say in playful exasperation.

“I know, I know- we can always put bubble wrap on our windows but actually replacing our windows is a bit out of budget and skill set right now.” Sage says, discarding layers to be air dried by the coat rack.

I chuckle, releasing my own winter wear to Sage’s hands, “I was just going to ask again if you wanted to sleep now or wind down some more.” Sage smiled sheepishly and pulled me in for a kiss.

“Let’s sleep now so we can wake up early! That way we can start on our projects first thing tomorrow and still have plenty of day left to relax.”

I nodded in agreement and headed for the cabin’s bed but was stopped by Sage’s warm hand.

“We have to brush our teeth first!”

I sighed and flopped onto the bed, “Would you grab my toothbrush for me?” Sage pouted playfully but dug through our luggage to retrieve our toothbrushes. I stretched on the bed. My arms over my head, every inch of my body went taut and then released with a warm tingle. I closed my eyes. The rustling of the luggage, the sound of Sage’s soft breathing… all of it soothed me so deeply. The bed beneath me hugged my travel and work weary body. I heard Sage footsteps faded ever so slightly. I felt my breathing deepen. Water from a faucet sounded distantly, as if in another room.

Then even that faded and I was dreaming. Dreaming of kisses, cosmos, and footsteps in the snow…