I was quickly passing by the old elegant buildings on the Upper West Side   in Manhattan. It was a cold February evening and it seemed like the strong wind tried to prevent me from walking, breathing and even looking good. My hat felt down and my hair was a mess; all tangled, flying toward some unknown destination ahead of me. I tried to keep it together and to chase my hat picked up by the waves of cold and unhelpful wind. I was almost flying pushed by its strong arms. One moment I was close to catch my dark Channel creation but the wind pulled it up from the wet wintery ground, twirled it in front of the lit up window and cast it into the darkness.

I started crying. I was devastated and overwhelmed with the feeling of pure misery. Why everything I love in my life always goes away?  Am I destined to chase something I cannot get? I helplessly leaned against the wall of some building. It felt like the hard shoulder of the man who wants to use you: wide, cold and careless. I was never used by a man in my life, at least I hope I was not, but I heard these stories from Jisel’. And who said that being used by a man is not better than to be alone?

Loneliness.…. I looked around. The street was empty and the wind came down. It became warmer and the sparkling snow started to fall on my hair covering my coat with a silver lace of tiny snowflakes. ‘’ Frozen tears,’’ I thought. You can’t hold them in your hand or they will turn to rain of tears. It is the nature’s way of dealing with the pain, to turn its rain into masterpieces of silver crystals with ideal dimensions.

I slowly started walking, with this new feeling of calmness and anticipation of something good to happen. Suddenly I turned into cozy, winterless street and realized that I’ve got really far from my home. It did not seem to bother me tough; there were times in my life when I was much further from the place I used to live. So far…

The rare snowflakes turned into the sparkling blizzard and I continued to walk — smiling.
–Excuse me,’ strangely familiar cadence of the man’s voice woke me up from my winter dream.
– ‘‘Yes?” I turned around.
-” I’ve found this on the street, could it be yours?”
The man in a dark coat handed my run-away fedora. He stepped out from the shadow of the sidewalk, and the light from the unfamiliar window lit up his so familiar face. I could not believe my eyes. We were standing in front of each other trying to comprehend the ever repeating miracle of coincidences that bring people together . Ten years ago, I left Russia for my new life in New York. It was my life out there that I abandoned, my love.…..our love.

We continued to stand in silence, afraid that the shadows of the past will take us away from each other. The blizzard became stronger and I put my hat on.
-”It’s snowing,’ I looked at the empty street lined up with dreamy lamps casting golden lines through the lacy curtains of the white snow.
-”Yes, it is February.
– February 14th.

It is getting cooler. The ocean is not as turquoise and innocent as it was in the morning. It became indigo, with red and yellow flickers of light that look like some passionate artist painted them on the water’s surface with thin brush. The hot summer day is slowly turning into serene evening.

There is this strong smell of the sea; warm summer wind tangles my hair that flies toward the red setting sun. I wear  white dress, knee-high that looks like the white sails from the blue boat anchored at the far horizon.

He is sitting on the peach tinted sand eating cherries. He likes these red beads of sweetness and immediately stains his hands with sweet burgundy juice. He smiles at me, stands up and runs to the blue water, plunging his hands into it, watching how the little waves take the red away. I see him waving at me.  His lean figure of a swimmer, with broad shoulders and long torso looks as though it was carved from dark-golden marble. ‘’ Roman God,’’ I think quickly, and the blaze of warm blood slowly goes up to my head making me dizzy.

‘‘Let’s go, let’s go!” his voice echoes on the green rocks that surround our hidden lagoon.
I stand up and run to him falling on my way through the dunes, catching the sand in my pockets, standing up and running again until I hold his hand, warm and strong, and we both walk along the shore.

Everything is so tranquil and peaceful. We look at the water that flickers with the reddish flames of the setting sun casting the last rays before drowning its hot body into to the cool sea. I close my eyes.…. It hurts to look at this pull of hot flames, and I continue to walk with my eyes closed holding his hand. I still feel dizzy, as though I’ve drank two glasses of that delicious local wine.
-‘’What is it called?’’
–What are you talking about?’ He looks at me quietly.
–The wine we drink at the ‘’Shoress’’. I forgot its name.
– It is called ‘’ The Sun in the flute’’
–The flute….yes, now I remember and the feeling of happiness fills me, lifts me up, and I feel like I am flying, swimming in the ocean of unconditional love, peace and joy mingled with the warm, salty air.

”Look,” he wakes me up from my dream. I open my eyes and see that the red sun is gone and enormous silver moon is taking over the realm of night. It is majestic. It looks like a big royal coin minted from pure silver.
I stealthily look at his face. It looks thoughtful and distant. I love him so much. I want to tell him that I am so happy to be with him and that this night and warm wind, and the hot sand together with blue Ocean, and the red dress he bought me yesterday at the local market mean so much to me…,but I do not say anything. I know that he already knows everything I want to say. The way he is looking at me smiling, his face lit up by the moonlight I can feel, that the words will only disturb the magical connection between us.

We walk away from the seashore surrounded by Silence.  The moon has headed off from the water and became smaller and even brighter. We can see her tender face through the webs of the trees. The stars flit and fall into the crowns of the fruit trees where they probably turn into colorful lanterns that twinkle at the elfish banquets that take place after all people fall asleep. The crickets are singing, the wind whispers something about eternal love and far away we see the warm lights of the town.