By Francis Marion
The sound of Bluegrass flowed like water out the cafe door and down stream along side currents born of Northern Cascades and the snow that still lingered amongst their craggy, watchful peaks. A cool breeze followed the setting sun up the valley and found its way in through the back door of the dining room while the band played softly, one by two, plucking on guitar and bass as farmer’s daughters scurried here and there bringing food and drink to traveller and resident alike.
“I’m sorry we’re full.” said a gentle voice from the front door to a pair of backpackers as a glass of stout found its place in front of my plate.
“We can wait,” they replied but the truth was that no one would leave for hours. Patrons picked slowly at their food and ordered more drinks as the band, a husband and wife duo, plucked another song, sipped their own brew and chatted with the guests in between.
As the evening waned and the sun travelled further up the valley my daughter noticed the lights had begun to come on. They were hand blown orbs of orange and red and yellow and they matched the scarf that she had worn to tie back her strawberry blonde hair. She looked in wonder at their shape and complexity and smiled as she realized they matched.
My son sat across from me tapping his foot and nodding his head as the evening’s entertainment went into its next song. He played unconsciously with the fries on his plate and marvelled at how easily the husband picked his guitar with thumb and finger at once. Their music and voices, a throw back to something long gone, mesmerized and intoxicated the guests in the small dining room in the little cafe in the mountain valley and for a while, all of us were somewhere else.
As I found my wife’s hand she shot me a wink. “How blessed I am” I began to think as she put her head on my shoulder and tapped her fingers on mine to the rhythm of the song.
There are moments in our lives when we are pulled out of time and place and allowed to forget the cares and worries of the world around us.
It is good to forget, from time to time, and to be somewhere else. To enjoy a pint, good music and good company.
I began to think that the world needed more places like this and more people like this and more moments like this.
People who love, who live and who, without knowing a thing about one another, could appreciate the fellowship that such a place in space and time could bring.
But then the music stopped and the lights flickered.
And the tabs were settled and the “thank you’s” spoken.
And it was time, once again,
to go….
Picture Via The Valley Voice
Nice. My twentieth eighth wedding anniversary is this weekend. Should be a nice break from troublesome things.
I’ve been married for 45 years. I’m way ahead of the curve – I’ve been having sex with a robot for the last 10 years.
And you people thought I was kidding when I said the Dutchman never met a bot he did not like and on occasion, Dutchman loves bots.
I/S – We have a lot in common you and me, my anniversary is Saturday. Alas, I have almost twenty more years under my belt than you.
Beautiful. And what a view.
The top pic is of a confluence where three different valleys meet. We hike a trail up to the look out a few times a week during the summer, just to catch the sunset and get some exercise.
This pic is from behind my house, literally, looking up the river valley towards said cafe and the look out.
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First thought; wow where was this place that I can go there?
Reality: We all have these places and instead of trying to relive some one else’s experience, we should take the time and energy to find our own spaces of refreshment and reconnect to the important things in our lives.
There is/was a little “winery” here in the area that serves brick oven pizza, charming appetizers and copious amounts of wine and beer. They do not make their own wine, their vineyard having been destroyed by a particularly hot and dry year a few years ago, but they purchase their own label from another local vintner to sell “in house.”
They turned an old stone home into a restaurant, which overlooks a 5 acre pond. There is a little wooden stage where local musicians try out their crowd appeal and sometimes put on a really good show. They have closed down for the summer due to family illness and I hope they reopen in the fall. If not, I am considering going into business and adding apple pie in a jar to the menu.
People come for a pizza and stay for the peace and beauty. That is a perfect night out.
Thank you, Francis.
We need more of these; a little cheer to balance the gloom-and-doom of reality. I’ll try to write one, one of these months.
Just as soon as I earn some more cash, work the garden for fall and winter, get the kid up to college (next town up) to buy his books, …..
That is a lovely little story. Thank you
My parents have had a rough go recently. Dad had a stroke and Mom has been dealing with spinal stenosis. They had to move from their dream retirement home of 23 years to an assisted living facility. The strain on Mom has been evident despite my efforts to help.
It was very nice to hear the enthusiasm in her voice about a college student who came to play piano for all the seniors. He’s trying to get into Julliard and goes around to such places to earn money.
Mom was thrilled at his talent and pursuit of his dream. Dad always requests “Flight of the Bumblebee” and the pianist belts it out with enthusiasm.
Wish I could have been there, but was glad to hear the joy in Mom’s telling of the story.
nice…