We could both feel our cares melting away as we drove up the steep, winding path to his cabin. It was late when we got there, but we made time to sit on the back deck and enjoy the cool mountain air. He grabbed his guitar as we made our way outside, where his sweet music echoed through the hills and hollows. Watching his fingers strum the guitar and listening to him play fills my soul with happiness. We stayed up late most nights, but time was irrelevant. It was so peaceful. So tranquil. So quiet. We had long conversations by the light of the moon or cuddled in silence in front of the fire ... simply enjoying our time together. A week alone with this man is never enough.