As we sat there, on that log, near the pond, with the frogs chirping and the wind breezing, I realized we were truly all alone. There wasn't another soul near us--not even in the vicinity. I realized we were sitting--in a beautiful place--alone, except for one another. I wondered silently if all beautiful places were solitary places.

After I stopped talking, we sat in silence for a few moments--embracing--looking at our reflections in the pond. It was murky, cloudy water, but it somehow reflected a wonderfully blurred vision of the two of us. The water was still--it was the first time I had seen the water still in that pond.

After a bit, I asked you if you wanted to say anything.

"I love you."

That was all.

We sat--for a long time--at the end of a long conversation, in a beautiful place, silent. We sat without company, at the end of language, waiting for a new conversation to begin.

I didn't mind waiting. It was nice to be alone with you--in the intermittent--in such a strangely beautiful, silent place.