Chapter Seven

Adam spread out a blanket on the soft ground near the water, then brought the picnic basket over from the buggy. He took her hand, knelt on the blanket and beckoned her to join him. They enjoyed a lunch of cold fried chicken, potato salad, and grapes along with a bottle of wine.

Adam noticed how taken she was with the lake, watching her repeatedly turning to look. "It's called the Jewel of the Sierra, you know."

"No, I didn't, but I understand why. It's probably the most beautiful body of water I've ever seen."

"What makes it so beautiful for you?"

"The colors. This whole place…your Ponderosa…your Sierra. My mother was an artist. My father always said she taught him how to really see. He taught me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look there," she said, pointing to the middle of the lake where the sun shone down through fluffy white clouds." Adam moved up behind her, looking over her shoulder. "Where the light hits the water, what do you see?"

"I see the light sparkling off the water."

"Do you see the colors? There's a whole palette of colors in those sparkles. It's bright white on the surface, but look at the top of the little peaks. Do you see the light green? Right below that is a slightly deeper green all the way down to a beautiful emerald color. Then it starts to change to blue, almost teal, before it gets to that deep, royal blue. There's a study in greens and blues hidden underneath that sparkle you see. And look right here at the shore. Even the green isn't the same over the rocks as it is over the sand. There's two different hues." She turned and smiled, catching her breath when she realized his face was right next to hers.

"Go on, please," he said, looking into her eyes.

Though she was feeling a little lightheaded, breathing deeply, but evenly, she turned back to the water. "Now, look again. If you add the shadows from the clouds, the colors change slightly. If you can look more deeply into it, you can see the colors actually changing as the light flickers from behind and in front of the clouds. You should be seeing sparkling colors, not a sparkling white light."

Adam looked and watched, studying the water as the light moved. Then he saw it, the sparkles changing from white to blues and greens. He looked back at her in surprise, then looked back at the water. He couldn't see the white sparkle anymore. Only the colors. "Do you see everything that way?"

"Yes, I do. There's beauty in even the starkest landscapes. Now listen. Tell me what you hear."

Adam held his breath. "I hear the water lapping at the shore. I hear the breeze in the trees."

"That's it?"

He laughed. "Yes."

"Close your eyes and listen with me. You hear the lapping of the water on the shore. Concentrate on that sound and tell me what else you hear with that sound. "There," she whispered. "And there."

"What is that?"

"That's a floating piece of wood scraping against a rock as those little waves lap at the shore. Sshh. Listen," she said ever so quietly. "Listen to the wind. Do you hear the creaking of the tree as it moves?" Adam grinned. "Now do you hear that tiny little squeak?"

Adam opened his eyes and turned toward the sound. "Up there," he said pointing to a tree. "A nest with a chick."

"You see, it's not that you can't see or hear. It's just that you've never really looked or listened."

"How come you never pursued art? I can imagine you could be an artist yourself."

"There were no schools after we left San Francisco. My father taught me after that, and his resources were limited. I read, but I never thought that I read well. I remember looking at Shakespeare once. I struggled so much with pronouncing all the doths, and whilsts, and hithers and thithers, that I missed the whole point of the writing. This is a little embarrassing, but I…I still stumble a bit when I read."

"Well, maybe I can apply your listening lesson to Shakespeare then. I just happen to have a book of Shakespeare with me. Would you like to hear some?"

Her eyes lit up along with the rest of her face in enchantment. "That would be a treat."

"All right, lie back on the blanket…now close your eyes and just listen." Adam began to read from his book of Shakespearean monologues choosing a piece from As You Like It. When he finished, he glanced down at Rebecca lying on her back on the blanket, a tear falling down the side of her face. "Tell me what you're thinking."

She lay quietly for a few minutes. "I've heard that before, but never like that. You stepped into that piece; you became the characters." She turned her head and looked over at him. "You brought it to life. You have a wonderfully expressive voice, Adam."

He laid the book down next to him, then leaned over next to her. "And you brought color to my life. You have wonderful eyes," he said, as he slowly leaned over her, meeting her lips with just a brief touch of his. He looked back into her eyes, and seeing acceptance there, he moved his hand to her cheek and pressed his lips to hers.

Before they left, he took the wrapped gift from the basket and handed it to her. "What's this?" she asked.

"Open it." When she opened it, she gasped as she looked into the box. Adam took the blue scarf out and tied it around her neck. "Will you wear this when I take you riding?"

She blushed, smiled and nodded.