The Magic Garden

​He took her big toe into his mouth. Slowly. Softly. She felt her whole body respond. Her back arched. She moaned quietly. And her head fell back. ​
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They were in his secret garden. A magical little space at the side of his house in Marin.

To one side of the seating area was a small fountain. ​ She heard the water flowing.

She’d met him in one of the ways people meet these days. Maybe it was an online dating site, but she felt like they’d known each other forever. It was comfortable and easy. He made her laugh. Made her feel sexy. ​
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It was a hot summer night with clear skies. Charcuterie on a wooden board. Amazing wine in spacious glasses.

And they opened to each other in all the ways. Tender, beautiful lovemaking. Passionate and easy.

Eventually, they went their separate ways. He headed off to parts unknown, but she thought of him often. Sometimes they called or sent a sexy text. And then nothing. ​
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It was years later when they quite literally ran into each other at an open air market off the Siuslaw River in Florence OR. She was absent mindedly looking at windchimes made from driftwood. He was talking to a local fisherman about the local crabbing conditions.

They collided and fell into each others’ arms in an instant. The familiar scent and feel was intoxicating. ​
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They found somewhere to sit and catch up. She was available. He was in Oregon after adventures in South America.

Hours passed and he invited her to join him in a beautiful cottage overlooking the sea.

It had a clawfoot tub surrounded by nautical stained glass, a wood stove, and views of the ocean from their bed.

When they woke in the morning, they saw a small herd of elk grazing outside the window. ​ ​
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The beautiful cottage (and his magic garden) helped them relax and connect with each other. Beautiful sex nests.​
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They were nothing like the bedrooms most of us live in.

Our bedrooms are often filled with clean and dirty laundry. Stuff from work. Or maybe they’ve become “our office.”

The kids run in. The door won’t lock. The TV blares or iPads light up the night. We stay awake checking email or surfing social.

We think about getting a new comforter but the cat tears this one up and we know it’s futile anyway. Forget it, we think. Doesn’t matter. Does it? ​
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How about you? What would it look like in your life if you slid between sexy sheets in a beautiful, private space?

Is it time to get away to somewhere romantic and find each other again - even if you haven’t gotten naked together in years? ​ ​
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I vote “yes”... ​