The morning light poured into the large open windows waking them from their deep slumber, gently. There was no reason to rush today. They had been doing that forever, but this weekend was theirs and theirs only, away at a secluded mountain estate.
"Is it going to rain today?" she asked him.
"I don't think so, what did you have in mind?" he replied.
"Let's go for a walk in the forest, it's so beautiful out there," she said.
They set off along a mountain pathway, walking deeper and deeper into the forest. The overnight rain had lifted and the soft sounds of dew dripping on leaves were soothing.
The running river snaked its way through the valley, crashing over rocks and into crystal clear ponds. It was getting hot and very humid. As they walked around the bend they saw the river cascade into rock pools, the water looked too inviting and he walked to the edge. Feeling free he turned around and started taking his shirt off.
"Are we going swimming?" she laughed.
"I am," he replied wriggling out of his shorts and shoes and standing naked on the water's edge before jumping in.
"Your turn," he called out at her.
She didn't bother looking around, after all, who cared. She took off her top and slid off her pants. She took a moment to let the sun kiss her naked body. She looked like a siren at the water's edge, naked and free. She dipped her toe in the water, smiled and then jumped in to join him.
The canopy shielded them from the harsh rays of the afternoon sun, they played in the water like teenage lovers, diving, swimming and just feeling close. Suddenly they heard the rumble of thunder in the distance.
"I thought it wasn't going to rain," she said raising her eyebrows.
"It's not like we can get any wetter," he laughed back.
Suddenly the heavens opened and the rain began to pour on them. Agreeing they had to turn back, they made their way back to the trail. The trail had become muddy.
"That hot tub is going to feel amazing when we get back," she said.
It was hard to disagree. The fun was starting to wear off as their clothes became soaked and their shoes waterlogged from the deluge. The rain had turned the previously peaceful flowing river into a raging torrent and as they rounded another bend, their hearts sank as one of the causeways was covered with fast-flowing water.
They spotted a clearing through the forest and made their way across towards it, as the forest broke into a soft field, they trudged to the mud, laughing together at the absurdity of the predicament they had found themselves in. It was still an adventure, and a shared one. They saw a stone fence ahead and followed it to a gate.
There was a sign on the fence. It read 'The Artists Hideaway'.
The beautiful stone pathway made its way towards a small weatherboard country home with a light-filled room branching off the main house. It looked welcoming and smoke was rising from the chimney.
It was the best option, perhaps they could get directions from here or at least borrow a landline to call for a ride. As they made their way up the verandah the front door swung open and they were greeted by a woman with a warm smile.
"Come in, you must be soaked," she said inviting them in and directing them towards a large roaring fireplace.
"I'll get you some towels," she added, "please make yourselves at home".
They stood shivering by the fire. They were usually pretty reserved and shy, but this place was so welcoming. They looked around the room, it was elegantly furnished like a country estate. Hard timbered floors, tall ceilings and tasteful furnishings. Exquisite artwork adorned every wall.
Their host walked back in and handed them a set of soft towels and soft dressing gowns and introduced herself.
"Please, slip into these and ill wash your clothes and put them in the dryer, the causeways are all flooded so you might be here for a while I'm sorry".
"Were sorry, we don't mean to intrude," he said.
"Don't be sorry, I usually host couples for weekend art classes, the flooded road means my reservations are cancelled so please stay as my guests," she said warmly.
"Oh and don't be shy about disrobing in front of the warm fire, as you can see, the human body is a celebration here," she added pointing to the figures on the walls around them.
She was right, every wall was adorned with stunning artwork. There was a type, Rubenesque women, like something from the renaissance. Sometimes with men, sometimes with other women. There was no denying that they were remarkable works of art, tasteful, slightly erotic but captivating.
"Did you sketch these?" his wife asked.
"I did," she laughed back, "you might have noticed a bit of a theme, my art is the female form in all its feminine beauty".
"They are stunning," she added as she walked around the room studying them.
"Thank you," she replied. She sat down and started telling them her story. Originally a country girl, she had been working in the city for ten years in advertising before three years ago selling up and moving back.
"I dreamed of just packing it all up, I was unhappy in life and love so I did exactly that, I moved to this little pocket of paradise, built my art studio and now work two days a week remotely and on weekends invite people out here to do life drawing".
"That pretty much sounds like my dream,"his wife said laughing.
"It is," her husband added, "We often joke about doing the same".
"So who do you host?" she asked.
"It varies, I do lots of hens weekends, but the popular one is couples who just want to relax, drink too much wine, eat a lot of cheese and learn to draw each other," she explained.
