“I hear the drums echoing tonight…”
This came on the radio as my brother pulled into my house–my home. My S.O. and sang I sang this song on our way home from our campfire. That song coming over the radio brought me right back to that time. Right back to that night, right back to Amelia Earhart and to the state lake.
We were surrounded by fireflies that masked the night like a thick glowing veil. The cicadas droned on their sounds, like sirens, making the frogs think twice. The air was fresh and damp like a cool dawn. The sky above was black as pitch and the stars bright as diamonds. Which you later plucked from the sky and gave me.
Being the soldier that you are you came with the bare bones for pitching a tent and making Bedouin tea in a kettle we had picked out at the thrift store. An old copper tea pot. If I wasn’t already nonplused you put it right on the fire and in a good half hour we had strong sweet Bedouin tea; that literally was one of the most delicious teas I’ve ever had! We talked some more and ate chocolates.
It was a sweet night that will forever be in my memory. The night I first fell in love beneath the stars.
The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide us toward salvation.