Countryside Chapels

''Let's drive down this road'',
 he points at a small winding dirt road,
lost in the woods.

She hesitates. 
It's her homeplace,
 but she hasn't been there before, 
has no idea where it is leading up to.

''Οk, let's go''.

Just a dirt road.
Among fir trees.
Late spring
but so windy.
She likes it being there
of all places with him.
She likes his driving.
His calmness matching the serene countryside.
He is always calm,
except when he gets mad.

Winding further down that road,
descending, 
ascending
and it occurs to her it doesn't matter 
whether they reach a destination.
Anywhere is great 
so long as they are together.

Driving, driving down that dirt road.
Idyllic woods scenery.
Then they see it
That lonely little church
perched up on a hill.
''Countryside chapels'', 
they are called here,
varying in size and architecture
scattered all over roads, highways and village squares .

They arrive on that hilltop.
Breathtaking view beneath their feet.
''Please park the car a bit closer to  the churchyard,''
she pleads.
Too near the edge of the cliff,
it makes her nervous.

But then,
it's lovemaking time
in that car of his
overloaded with love and lust
parked outside a country chapel
overlooking the green valley.
And her nervousness
turns into that cozy feeling
of hotness rising, building up
in waves and cascades.

It's windy and the sky is getting darker
and it's drizzling
when they are finally headed home
car stereo blasting one of his favorite songs
he'd like to share with her.

It's moving.
The song,
the silent road
lit by the car headlights
that blissful feeling of contentment
in this moment they are sharing

Is there a thing such as
bliss overload?