My wife and I had driven down to south Georgia to drop our son off for a boy scout camp. Afterwards, we decided to drive around and take in the sights. The area wasn’t exactly highly populated, so we were essentially cruising the back roads, blaring the radio and watching the trees whip past us. It was one of those rare moments of adulthood where you felt completely relaxed and unburdened.
A song came on that my wife and I both love– Howl by Florence and the Machine. We started talking about the lyrics, and how the line “I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground” implied this animalistic passion that was that was getting harder to come by in our civilized world. These random car conversations are one of the things I have loved the most about our marriage. My wife loved the idea of being so consumed with passion for your partner that you would hunt them through the wilderness and ravage them. She asked if I would “hunt” her like that. I chuckled at this because my wife had worn an outfit that she knew drove me absolutely wild–a yellow sundress with blue flowers that just barely covered everything it was supposed to and her bright red hair was pulled into pig tails. I was already having trouble keeping my hands to myself, so I told her that I would absolutely hunt for her.