Julia

12/02/21 D. Congour

She comes to me in those occasional moments when I have a little time to let my mind wander. She often visits me, all too briefly, in dreams. I miss her dearly when these brief moments pass; and sometimes, as I'm exiting the dream, and returning to consciousness, I call out her name in a vain attempt to get her back. We are usually is a rustic cabin in the mountains outside of Denver; and the year is sometime in the mid to late 70’s. She’s wearing jeans and a plaid cotton shirt, leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and living room of the cabin, with a warm, slightly mischievous smile on her face. I don’t know much about her past, having only met her for a few brief seconds at a time, and then only in a hazy, somewhat Polaroid-style images in my mind, in the midst of a dream. I don’t know the sound of her voice. But I know that we are connected on some spiritual level … Does she exist in real life? Maybe, although by now, as with me, she is in her 60’s, and living who knows where. Even if she does exist, I don’t know how I would ever find her; perhaps that’s best … perhaps, like myself, she has children, and even grandkids, in which case I wish them all the happiness and success that life has to offer.

In my quest to know her, based on the few fleeting glimpses I’ve had, I’ve filled in the blanks a bit, so that I can include her in my life, even if only in my mind … because, you see, she’s the girl of my dreams; one whom I never had the chance to meet. So ... I’ve built a small world around her; a life of make believe that I can slip into to escape from the sometimes harsh reality of daily life; but it’s a world that feels very real to me. Whenever I want to, I can escape my humdrum life, and enter the world that I always wanted to live in, with her at my side, to beat down all of life’s challenges, replacing them with joy.

She’s about 5’ 4”, and has a slight build, but well rounded in a way that is quite appealing to me. Spunky and full of energy, she has dark brown hair, and big, soft brown eyes that radiate love, inquisitiveness, intelligence, gentleness of spirit, and just a smidgen of piracy. Her smile comes and goes like a cloud shrouded moon, neutral most times, but always ready to radiate beautifully when the clouds move away. Her preferred garb: an old air of jeans, and a plaid cotton shirt, are for standing up to the rigors of homestead chores on our small plot of paradise located in the mountain pines. I think her name is Julia, but don’t ask me why, I don’t really know when I came to that conclusion; she never told me. In fact, I’ve never heard her speak, though I’d dearly love to.

On Friday evenings, we like to hike a mile or so down to the Little Bear Saloon for a pitcher of beer with our friends, and maybe a basket of fries and a burger if we have the cash. At the end of the night, we huff our way back up the mountain, through the ponderosas and firs, to the little cabin, holding hands and singing songs along the way; but, sadly, I can only hear my own voice. I know that she is singing with me, however, I can feel it; and I just know that, if I were to hear her voice, it would be the sweetest sound that I ever heard. Tonight, we’ve got to get a good sleep in preparation for a weekend off, an adventure in the nearby mountains, or a trip to the Front Range to hang out with friends and go to a concert.

When not mending fences, clearing out brush, or the numerous other chores around our small homestead, she keeps the books at the local hardware store about a mile away in the town of Evergreen. This comes in handy, because I am the chief repairman on our little cabin, and always need something from the store. We’ve got a small Toyota truck with a camper shell that we use to haul stuff, camp in, and travel to Denver to go to Zach’s fern bar on Capitol Hill, or the Cherry Cricket in Cherry Creek. We’ve got quite a few friends in the Capitol Hill neighborhood from our earlier life there, so we are never alone. Lively conversations about events around town, bike rides on the Highline Canal, the recent Grateful Dead concert at the Coliseum, and Little Feat at Red Rocks, frisbee throwing in Cheeseman Park...

We picked up the three acre lot outside Evergreen fairly cheaply, using a couple of thousand in savings, a little cash from the folks, and a bit of luck through word of mouth about an older couple that wanted to lighten their load of responsibilities. The lot sits uphill from Cub Creek; a woodsy area outside of town, so it feels like our property never ends. I built the little cabin with rough sawn lumber from a local mill. To make some cash, I work on home improvement of all sorts, and take classes in the local community college, working towards some vague goal of a business degree of some sort, probably in construction of vacation homes in the mountains; a business I already know pretty well.

The cabin, built mostly of rough hewn Ponderosa Pine, and sprinkled throughout with gnarly wood branches for trim, no paint, and salvaged old iron antique tools and farm items, which add to the rustic charm, mostly orchestrated by Julia, and implemented with her help. I smoothed the planks on the porch by sanding them, and treating them with linseed oil. I sided the cabin with shiplap cedar from a front range mill; no paint. An old Double Star upright woodstove provides nearly all of our heat during the long heating season.

We’ve decided to forego having kids, for a while at least; being content just to live in peace and tranquility outside of our small mountain town; and taking hiking/camping adventures around the state we love so well. Besides we both know by now that our love will last, and that there’s no hurry. Along with the friends we’ve made in the area, we are quite content with our lives.

We have a pretty good stereo in our sitting room, and love to dance to our extensive album collection, lots of Neil Young, Dan Fogelberg, Joanie Mitchell, Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, Little Feat, etc. We like to have friends over for dinner … it’s so great to be on our mid-twenties, with so few worries, and so much to live for. Sometimes I worry that I could lose her somehow, and be lost; but she shows no signs of wanting to leave me; I’m grateful for that, and I let her know.

On summer nights, after the dinner dishes are washed, we like to sit out on the porch facing out over the valley, and enjoy the Alpenglow from the setting sun lighting up the nearby mountains. The Three Sisters Peaks are often framed in blood orange at sunset. It’s at times like these that the fullness of our happiness hits us, and she puts her hand in mine in love. A couple of times per week, and friend will pop in, and join us on the porch to admire the view and share some tales. Life is good!

Every so often, we throw some camping gear into the back of the truck, and head deeper into the mountains west of us to find a good camp spot, set up a base camp, and wander up a trail to enjoy the beauty of our magnificent state. No matter how rough the trail, we never seem to tire of finding what’s around the bend. We save up the images in our minds; replaying them around the campfire that night. We talk about friends and family as we share a joint, a swig of Gallo Paisano, and cook a one-pot meal on the fire. After admiring the stars for a while, drowsiness wins over, and we climb into our cocoon for a well needed night’s rest, snuggling close for warmth and love. In the morning, it’s a different world: bright sun, blue sky, and even a little frost, short lived, on the grass surrounding the campsite. Another fine day in the Colorado Mountains! Can’t wait to go exploring! … but first ... bacon and eggs in a cast iron skillet over the coals of last night’s revived fire.

Inevitably, at some point in my reverie, I get yanked out of my dream, and must return to the realities of my daily life, saying goodbye to Julia; but always with a promise to return to her soon. I intend to grow old with her. We probably won’t have kids; it’s not part of the plan, as much as we’d like it to be. It’s hard to describe the feeling of longing and love that I feel for this woman whom I never met; and whose voice I don’t even know. But, as surely as I live, I will carry her in my heart until my last day on this Earth.

“Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it just to reach you, Julia …

Juuulia!... ”