" Bon Iver is in the garden, singing to the fennel and sugar snap peas. He says it helps them reach their roots deep into the soil so they can grow tall. ‘Someday,’ he says, as he pats my belly, ‘I’ll sing to our babies and they’ll grow roots here too.’
Bon Iver is bare to the waist in the creek with the sun on his shoulders. His eyes are closed.
On the fourth day at the cabin, Bon Iver wrapped me in his warm embrace, stared deeply into my eyes and whispered, “My name is Justin.”
" Bon Iver took a break from making me a mosaic out of seaglass to kiss each one of my toes."
Just loveliness, not so?
"Bon Iver wanted to show me that it is okay to cry when you are sad. He squeezed his eyes shut and his face was marked by sorrow. Moments later, his eyes were wet. He shuddered. ‘Bon Iver,’ I said, and placed a hand on his bare chest to calm him, ‘what made you so suddenly sad?’ He choked and wiped his eyes. ‘Deforestation,’ he whispered."
" Bon Iver showed me his new tattoo. It is a tiny sparrow whose heart is exposed, and within the heart is a map of the world showing every place we’ve been together, and in every place we’ve been together is a tiny perfect rendition of us with our bodies entwined. He did the tattoo himself. "
"Bon Iver drew me in graphite in his Moleskine. In the drawing, I am curled naked in a vintage Pendleton park blanket. He marked the page with a pressed violet."
"Bon Iver is tickling my back in the orchard while the ratatouille is in the oven!"
" Bon Iver explains that bees don’t need all the honey they make. ‘It’s OK for us to take a little of it,’ he says, his tongue tracing my sticky hipbone. "
"Today I opened Bon Iver’s tackle box to look for scissors and I found it: a tiny velvet package, and inside, his grandmother’s opal ring. "
I asked Bon Iver to describe a perfect day. ‘We spend the morning picking wildflowers in the field near the one-room schoolhouse. When the sun is high, we find a shade tree, spread out our Navajo blanket, and share a salad of organic arugula and some rosemary bread I baked. You wear a picture hat and a linen romper. I bring my banjo and play all your favorite Woody Guthrie songs. In the evening, we smoke hand-rolled cigarettes and drink whiskey from a jam jar. When the whiskey’s gone and we’ve smoked our last cigarette, we make love on the back porch with only the light of the fireflies to see each other by.’
Last night we made love on a frozen pond. As we lay together afterward counting the stars, I began to shiver. Bon Iver pulled me close and said, ‘If I could crawl inside your heart and build a fire, would you let me?’
" Today at the flea market, Bon Iver found a box of old hats. He bought them all. ‘I couldn’t decide which one felt most like home,’ he said. "
The joy continues, here.