I wrote about this on a thread at Dave’s, where we were discussing mourning doves, but thought I’d elaborate a little about it here. It’s one of my favorite memories and I hope you find some respite in it, too. I know I have, just in the re-telling.
One of Howie’s and my favorite memories is a Saturday night we spent up in Holmes County. We’d taken a drive and had dinner at Der Dutchman restaurant, but it became very foggy by the time evening came. We thought it was as good an excuse as any to find lodging and spend the night. We called around at about 8pm and finally found a bed and breakfast with a room open.
It was in a little farmhouse down the road from the Mennonite owners’ home; our room was on the second floor, sparsely, but attractively, furnished and decorated. A low window on each side of the room provided a wonderful cross breeze. We snuggled down in the bed and fell asleep breathing that wonderful spring country air.
Sometime in the pre-dawn hours, we awoke to hear rain pattering on the slate roof outside the windows. There were also mourning doves cooing nearby. We lay there in that magic, just soaking in the whole experience, and finally fell back asleep. What awoke us for the day was the sound of Amish buggies passing as familes made their way to homes for church. After breakfast, we sat outside on a porch swing and enjoyed the quiet before heading back home.
Whenever I hear doves, I think of that wonderful night – especially if it’s raining. 🙂