Warm, toasted coffee swirled in the air, the robust fragrance making its way around the large willow tree. Nestled among the exposed roots, a blanket had been sprawled across the grass. Atop its threaded surface sat a wicker basket and paper plates. The source of the coffee smell, two mugs, sat here also in the autumn breeze.

Uneaten cinnamon buns, glazed and still warm from the oven. Their sweetly spiced aroma swelled from within the basket and spilled into the surroundings; mixing with dark roasted coffee beans. The combined smells of a coffee shop mingled over the faces of two figures sat against the bark of the willow. Through the dark brown curls of one, and over the straight blond locks of the other, the pair locked in silent conversation. Throughout their soundless dialogue, eyes locked in understanding of one another.

An autumn breeze whispered over the willow, seeping in between the curtain of once-green leaves. The spiced and bitter scent was blown away, leaving nature to fill the space before warm food replaced it once again. The earthy, fresh smell of petrichor hung heavy in the wind and in the settling air. It played with the edges of the blanket, and tickled at the raindrops still clinging to the leaves of the tree.

Silence, dotted only by the rustle of leaves settling down after the draft. Clear air, being slowly saturated with the smells of cafe products. A setting sun, bleeding the blue sky with hues of ruby and copper, topaz and gold. It was this lustrous glow that peered past the wilting willow branches, to the couple drinking coffee and finally taking bites of pastries. In dusk’s luminous death, murmured enjoyment of the sweet buns and warming beverages.

Still, not a word passed their lips. They preferred instead to reach out to one another, fingers tracing lazy paths on cheeks, lips, and ears. Simple acts of affection, ones magnified by wordlessness. All the more, twilight had begun to chill the autumnal air. A shiver ran through one of the curious romantics sat at the bottom of the tree. Through their finger, it reached the other, and the pair huddled closer; yet did so cautiously, in fear of breaking the sonorous vacuum.

The warmth of the pastries was fading, and the coffee would soon meet the same fate. Despite this, neither occupant of the willow’s base seemed concerned or hurried at all. Both were simply too enamored in the other’s eyes, the other’s face, the other’s touch, to care. The last dregs of sunlight trickled down the mountains on the horizon, as a gorgeous aquamarine hue filled the sky. Clouds tinged once with pink grew sullenly grey, and leaves once glistening with water droplets like glassy beads were now dry.

It was in this ethereal space; between light and dark, between day and night; that the scarlet canopy of willow leaves finally gave way in another breeze. One by one, each dried fragment of the willow’s former glory drifted off to find its own patch of soil to decompose into. What was left was akin to a spider’s webbing, stretched over the tree in a dome shape. The lovers, curled into one another on the blanket, peered up and the smiles on their lips refreshed.

Bit by bit, sparkle by sparkle. That is how the great night sky revealed itself, with stars blinking into sight from horizon to horizon. Out here, away from the cities and stores, the stars are bright. Brighter than either of the individuals had ever seen. The stars are plentiful, too, amassed in nebulas and galaxies splashed across the universe like bright paint on a black canvas.

And finally, the moon emerged from behind a cloudy patch. Round, full, and ivory. The land, which had but an hour ago thrived in the warm sun, now glimmered in the soft, cold moonlight. The smell of rains fallen earlier that day now overtook the fragrance of glaze and coffee. The couple forgot their morsels, now sitting side by side and staring. Staring first at beauteous space, and then at each other.

Only mere inches separated their faces, as breaths began to show like foggy puffs. And when it felt as though the whole world was looking away, lips brushed against lips.

The faint taste of cinnamon and espresso mingled, swirled between the two. Ephemeral was the kiss, however, ending as soon as it had begun. Tender, yet brief, and somehow all the more satisfying that way. The two grasped their hands together, and leaned back against the tree to marvel at the nocturnal world.

A ghostly, elegant moon watched over the world while her sister had long since moved her gaze to another part of the fortunate world. The many subjects of her royalty glittered faintly in the night sky, her kingdom.

And still, only the distant thrum of crickets and wind could be heard. A soft symphony, composed and performed nightly by nature. Not a word needed to be said, not in this place. Not between these people. Not in this perfect silence.