Eventually, our pruney fingers and grumbling bellies propel us inside for dinner. After our meal, we switch off all the lights and lay the cushions on the floor. Our eyes adjust to the darkness as we peer outside for a glimpse of a velvet sky pin pricked with jewels. Our ears strain to seek out the smallest of noises. We only spot a few gems in the sky and we gather that it’s a cloudy night.
Soon, we are falling onto the deliciously comfortable king bed and we deliberately keep the window shades drawn with a vague notion of rising with the sun. Sleep comes swiftly but it seems fleeting as I awake groggily in the middle of the night. Momentarily, I’m disorientated before realising that the moon is beaming in on me. I hear no sirens, no shouts nor any calls. My eyelids refuse to open yet I don’t feel my safety is compromised, so I roll over to my side and let sleep consume me once more.
The next morning, I pad upstairs to fix the morning coffees. Through the windows, the trees stand stagnant. The soft, morning sun is accentuating the colours of the forest canopy; the dull yellows become golden and the ambers convert to fiery reds on the tips of the trees.
I glance to my right and now the cloud obscures the view. I pause and I watch as the cloud drifts slowly towards me, the wind gently pushing the white wisps to glide over the treetops, like a ballerina sweeping across a stage. It moves at a steady pace and I think to myself that if this truly were a king’s fortress, the sentries would certainly have a hard time keeping watch for invading enemies.
The birds seem unperturbed and continue their morning tunes, serenading the open air. I turn my back, only for an instant, and when I turn around to face the world again, the cloud has enveloped the trees. A thick wall of white stretches beyond me so now, up here in the castle on the hill, I must be hidden from the outside world.
I sit momentarily, absorbing the silence. Gradually, the outline of a tree emerges from the white thicket. As steadily as it appears before me, it now disappears as the cloud continues to move across my line of vision. I swear my pulse quickens as it eerily feels that I’ve become the unwanted protagonist in a horror movie. I wait a few minutes more, expecting the tree to reveal itself again, to ensure that my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, but it shyly remains cloaked in white.
My husband joins me on the upper level in search of coffee. We’ve allowed ourselves a little sleep-in so we missed the sunrise but letting our bodies wake naturally, rather than to the sounds of traffic or a shrill alarm, is a luxury we’re glad to have afforded ourselves during our short stay.
All too soon, it’s time to depart from this secluded getaway. Like those who have stayed before us, I wish we had more time to while the hours away.
I keep my eyes on the side mirror and turn my head for one last look at The Keep before the cloud shrouds the refuge in the wilderness. This is one of the few times where I wish that modern technology couldn’t share this wondrous place with the world, because though I can no longer see it, I know that it’s there. I know that this place is the secret we’d like to keep.
