There aren’t many hiking days left before the ground is covered in crotch-deep snow. That – and a desire to see some fall foliage – prompted Pythagoras and me to hit the trail on Saturday.
We’d been hiking a few miles when we came across a lovely and secluded spot along the water’s edge. I looked at Pythagoras, who was glistening handsomely with sweat. My bosoms were heaving from the exertion of the hike.
OK, so I had romance writing on the brain. Sue me.
I gazed out at a grassy patch between two forks in the creek. “That would be a nice spot to set a love scene in a book.”
Pythagoras turned and stared at me for a few beats. “No.”
I gave him my most innocent expression. “What?”
“The trail is just over there. You saw that whole family piling in the car at the trailhead. It’d be our luck they’d all come trooping along, picnic basket in hand, kids racing out in front—”
“I wasn’t propositioning you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“OK, fine,” I admitted. “I was propositioning you but—”
“There’s also the dog. You want her grabbing your underwear and running off into the woods?”
That actually seemed like a great scene for a romantic comedy, but perhaps not the best way to seduce my husband.
Fine, he had a point. Even so, I heaved a dramatic sigh. “OK, but you’re missing out.”
“On being arrested for indecent exposure? I’m all right with missing that.”
We threw sticks in the water for the dog for a few more minutes before we set out hiking again. We hadn’t gone more than 30 yards when we saw evidence that someone – presumably someone on horseback or afflicted with severe gastrointestinal issues – had passed by while we were debating the wisdom of getting frisky in the grass.
To my husband’s credit, he did not say I told you so.
Nor did he say it 15 minutes later when we passed a happy pack of hikers headed straight for our spot along the creek.
OK, OK…those romantic, outdoorsy trysts in romance novels and movies are seldom very realistic. There are fire ants and poison ivy, foul weather and fellow hikers.
Still, you can’t blame a girl for trying.
Do you roll your eyes when you watch a Hollywood love scene with a couple frolicking in a lagoon you’re certain would be filled with leeches in real life? Or do you suspend disbelief and just enjoy the fantasy?
Please share. I’ll be busy plotting my strategy for that snow-cave rendezvous I’ve been picturing in my mind.