Ravdale was such a tiny community but it had a reputation for being a great place to escape the rigors of city life and get away to the "great outdoors". It seemed to be the perfect place for Carla and Stan to go to try and piece back the remnants of their failing marriage.

It was Carla's idea when she saw the brochure in the beauty shop that another patron had forgotten. The scenery looked stunning and tranquil with a small but unbelievably clear lake, fed by the melting water of the nearby mountains. Acres and acres of tall pine and evergreen lined the shores of the lake with widely spaced quaint cabins nestled in a clearing here and there. It was perfect!

When she first suggested it to Stan, he did not seem receptive to the idea at all. First objection: it was too far. Second objection: it was too expensive for their strained budget. The third objection was silent but they both knew it was there. Why should they go there and spend three days either fighting or in total cold silence?

However, Carla kept working on him and he finally agreed just to shut her up about it. She called and made the reservations for the cabin, the rental car and organized everything before they left. All Stan had to do was get himself ready and then drive.

The drive across two states was done mostly in their habitual silence but Carla kept herself from showing any anxiety by either reading or sleeping when she was not driving. She knew that the hours of silence away from his refuge of work and television gave Stan time to think that she knew was very necessary. After several hours, he tired of the fading in and out of the radio, the same CD's over and over again and so he began to talk.

The conversation stayed light and proceeded to continue into their meals as they drew closer to Ravdale. Carla was growing more hopeful by the mile and by the minute. By the time they reached the cabin late that night, she was very encouraged. She said nothing when Stan mumbled a weary good night and promptly went to sleep. She took hope in the knowledge that they still had two whole days of togetherness ahead of them.

The days seemed to pass quickly beginning the next morning as they rented a small bass boat and went out onto the placid lake to do some fishing. She did not care for fishing but she knew that Stan loved it. They spent three fishless hours on the lake but Stan seemed to have enjoyed himself as he was more than willing to go on a long walk up the Nature trail with her in the afternoon. She thrived in the awing majesty of the wooded area and the serene quiet of the walk. Stan also seemed to be pleased with the beauty around him.

They returned to the cabin for a warm meal that Carla cooked and Stan ate with a ravenous, healthy hunger. She showed her delight when he offered to help with the clean up. "Yep," she thought to herself, "things are definitely looking up!" Matters improved even more when he reached for her in the bed and they made quiet but contenting love for the first time in many months. Her plans were working wonderfully.

The next day seemed to be a flawless copy of the first until they sat down to dinner and they heard the wind begin to howl like a banshee. It seemed to have come from out of nowhere and soon, the lashing rain and booming thunder followed as a mountain storm awakened in the night sky and dumped its wrath upon the tiny lake and even smaller cabin. The power failed so they lit the kerosene lamps and moved closer to the fire burning brightly in the fireplace.

There on a Indian rug in front of the hearth, they left quiet love behind and took each other to heights to equal the rage of the mad storm outside. Just at the end, everything suddenly went quiet. The rain stopped, the thunder ceased and the wind went eerily silent. They both stopped in surprise and listened to the sound of nothing!

Without knowing why, Stan was overwhelmed with an intense sense of fear. He never said a word but quickly rolled his naked wife up in the rug, grabbed his jeans, lifted her and made an unexplainably quick dash for the door. She lay silent in his arms, terrified by the unmasked fear on his face. He flung himself through the front door and leaped like an Olympic jumper from the front porch.

At that very moment, a huge jagged streak of lightning sliced the sky and its sizzling wicked end found mark on top of an very tall pine that stood at the far western corner of cabin. The lightning split the tree as neatly as a dagger through flesh and the burning tree groaned, swayed and then collapsed onto to the top of the cabin. The roof caved and the cabin soon was a shambles of burning pine, varnished logs and other contents inside, everything but the two humans that had been there just moments before.

The wind began to moan and rise again. The rain fell again but not as hard. The rumbling thunder sounded but with a distinct distance to its sound. The storm was passing.

Incredulous, Carla turned and stared in awe at the face of her husband. "How did you know?" she whispered. He stared down at her, and his eyes told her his thoughts. He was thinking of how close he had come to losing her and knew that nothing was worth that. He pulled her close to him as he returned his gaze to the burning cabin and said softly

"My grandfather always told me to be wary when a angry wind suddenly goes quiet. It is a warning of danger! And, my dear wife, I think this proves he was right."

Carla only leaned closer to her husband, sheltering in his strength and quietly nodded her head in agreement.