It was spain, (as I knew it would be) for me that day, as I saw her hair dancing in joy with the wind on that hot autumn day in Brazil.
And she spoke to me of things she had seen and people she had known, and I knew, even then, that she was to be mine and the hot summer nights were never to be so soullessly lonesome again. I asked her of her name and she told me in no more than a whisper that her name was unpronouncable in our language, but meant "Unshrouded beauty" in hers
We talked the hours away that night, me of my work and beliefs, she of a construction worker name HAL who had "A tool the size of a softball bat".
Oh, how we talked!
And I knew it was to be. We did the usual things that a couple of love struck young candles of life, burning in the predawn of adolescence, would do; ate at exotic restaraunts, shared a coin at the wishing well of love and hoiked phlegm on poor people from the penthouse of the Grande' Hotel in Rio.
And, as the autumn winds aged the trees' green hue to shades of earth and grave, and the winters song became even more mournful, we moved in together in her plantation in Costa Rica.
The nights we spent, laughing into the enchanted hours while we tortured local peasants with 80 grit sandpaper and an immersion heater!
The next year we got married in a quaint church in Southern Antartica, it was a small affair - Just me her, my best man, her maid of honour and the crew of the HMS Thighbuster, for whom she was a team mascot. A strange woman, but lovable all the same.
Our honeymoon was had in regal splendour in the Penthouse suite of a large London Hotel where we passed the time away buying and selling shares in a large company until it went into receivership. The joys of monetary independance were truly upon us.
Her father had been in oil she said, bit luckily he'd managed to swim out, and with the proceeds from his negligence case, had set up a business supplying music and movie stars with neccessary items. Apparently, he had Elvis's last Prescription gold plated, and it hangs above his guest bed. His liquor cabinet had a brass plate saying "By appointment to Jim Morrison" - he was well known and loved by a whole host of people who no longer visited him for death reasons.
And still I had the yearning of the young for places far away and people seldom thought of...
It came to me one summer morn, as the sunlight waltzed with the dew soaked trees, that I was talking utter crap.